Catalyst
by Swiftwidget
Summary: Part 2 of "I Am..." series. Escape is only the beginning. It's time to heal and deal with the long term side effects. "All Might brushed his palms over the red rings left on his wrists. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply, and a small smile lingered on his face. He looked… exhausted and worn down to the bone, but he smiled warmly. The smile said it all. I'm here."
1. The Return

I do not own BNHA or its characters.

Enjoy Chapter One of "Catalyst"

Cowritten and proofread by aoimikans on Tumblr.

* * *

 **The Return**

 _Five hundred meters_.

The fall morning was bright, crisp, and quiet. Wind whipped through Izuku Midoriya's hair, cool but not cold enough to sting his lungs as he picked up speed. His feet pounded against the track and arms pumped at his sides. His muscles burned but nowhere near their limit. Izuku grinned.

 _Four hundred meters._

The spark in his chest flared, and he activated One for All: Full Cowl. Power darted across his skin and warmed him from the inside out. He felt lighter, the ground softer, the distance shorter, his mind at ease. He ran.

 _Two hundred meters._

Izuku pushed himself. Seven percent. Eight percent. Nine -

He hissed at the pull at his tendons. One for All fizzled out as he slowed to a jog, then a walk. His legs throbbed, just on the edge of strain. Nothing he couldn't shake off.

 _Not quite sturdy enough for nine percent yet,_ Izuku thought with a thoughtful frown. He shook his head, _One hundred meters cool down. Then stretch. Maybe tomorrow…_

Izuku walked the rest of the loop. The pounding of his heart and breathing slowed as he turned along the last curve toward his belongings. He glanced up and halted midstep.

Someone was sitting in All Might's spot on the bench.

For a moment, he thought -

The person looked up.

"Ah! Midoriya!" Tenya Iida stood, revealing Ochako Uraraka sitting behind him, "Good morning!"

"Morning Deku!" Uraraka echoed, popping up and waving cheerily.

Izuku shook off his surprise and smiled as he jogged toward his friends, "Morning! You guys are up early."

Iida nodded formally, "Yes, well, Lunch Rush is offering instructions on how to safely use the dorm kitchens. As Class President, it is my responsibility to ensure proper use of the dorm facilities."

"And we get to keep and eat whatever we make!" Uraraka exclaimed, pumping her fists in the air excitedly.

"Sounds fun," Izuku said with a small smile.

His friends caught his hesitation and glanced knowingly at each other.

"Are you doing okay, Deku?" Uraraka asked, her voice quiet as she clasped her gloved hands together.

Izuku's smile slipped a little.

 _I'm making them worry..._

He rubbed at his arms and suppressed a shiver. The sweat coating his skin had grown cold. He opened his mouth to reassure them, but Iida suddenly stepped forward and clapped his hands onto Izuku's shoulders.

"The police and our teachers will find All Might. So don't worry, Midoriya!" he exclaimed.

Izuku jumped a little at Iida's volume and blinked rapidly until his words sunk in. He bowed his head a little, pursing his lips, before nodding.

"Yeah," Izuku agreed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I-I know."

"Plus he's All Might!" Uraraka jumped in, smiling brightly. She punched her fist in the air, "Wherever he is, I'm sure he's alright! He's bound to show up soon!"

"Exactly!" Iida crossed his arms and nodded seriously.

Their smiles and faith were infectious, and Izuku grinned.

Uraraka clapped her hands together, "So! You want to join us for Lunch Rush's lesson?"

"Ah," Izuku shuffled his feet and said, "I worked up a sweat out here so I really ought to wash up."

"You can meet us there after that then," Iida suggested, "The lesson isn't for another thirty minutes anyway."

"And if you, um, can't make it, we'll save you some food," Uraraka promised, giving Izuku a small, understanding smile.

"T-thanks," Izuku said quietly.

Iida and Uraraka departed for the dorms with a wave. Izuku rubbed the back of his head and waved. When they turned away, he let his hands drop to his side.

Izuku bit his lip, brows furrowing and shoulders slumping.

 _All Might..._

Aizawa had been the one to tell Class 1A that All Might was missing. None had drawn a possible connection between All Might's disappearance and the escape of the "Kamino Ward Boss," though Kacchan was especially subdued upon hearing the news.

No one knew about Izuku's phone call. They didn't know how All Might sounded…

Dread clenched in his gut. Izuku shut his eyes, shaking away the memory.

" _I would appreciate it if you kept All Might's history with All for One between you, Detective Tsukauchi, and myself."_ Principal Nedzu had said to Izuku. " _If you want updates, do not hesitate to come to me."_

"Maybe I'll drop in and see …" Izuku mumbled to himself as he picked up his things and headed toward the track-side locker room.

* * *

Other than Recovery Girl and Power Loader, the majority of U.A. faculty held office hours in the southeast faculty building. Including Principal Nedzu.

Izuku jogged off the field and toward the southeast corner of campus. His phone buzzed once in his pocket, then again and again. Izuku slowed to a stop and pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.

It was the IFF, "Identification Friend or Foe," app. Izuku's phone buzzed again as another report post popped up.

[anybody know who this is?]

Attached was a picture of … something. It was too blurred with movement to see clearly. A person with a tail quirk, maybe?

The phone buzzed again as two more posts appeared.

[crazy monster by cantina! Somebody send a hero!]

[r you seeing this!1 it's charging thru town! everyone's freaking out!]

There were multiple pictures of the "monster," but none were remotely clear.

Izuku scrolled through images posted in the last half hour, his brows wrinkling in mild frustration. The only focused picture looked like it was taken after the person fell. Clawed hands and feet and what looked like…

 _Chains? Blood?_

Izuku frowned thoughtfully, pinching his lower lip, and mumbled, "Maybe an aesthetic touch? Going for intimidation? Hmm."

Izuku stuffed his phone in his pocket, making a mental note to check in on it after he spoke with Principal Nedzu.

A loud cry split the air and Izuku froze. It almost sounded like a wounded animal, but there was only one thing that sounded like _that_.

A chill ran down his spine. _Noumu…_

Izuku looked toward where the sound originated, just on the other side of one of the gymnasiums. His mind raced. Most of the students were in the dorms or visiting family off campus for the weekend. If there were any other students, especially non-Hero Department students, in the area… Izuku's hands curled into fists, determination firing in his core. At the very least, he would locate it and then get a teacher, or hold it off if worst came to worst.

One for All flared to life, shooting down Izuku's limbs. He sprinted toward and around the gymnasium. Rounding the last corner, he got a full view of the courtyard and froze, eyes widening.

 _Aizawa-sensei!_

Aizawa was alone, eyes glowing red and Capturing Weapon extended, holding back the nou-

Izuku's brows furrowed, _No… That's not a noumu… Is it?_

He was still too far to see clearly, but the intruder's brain wasn't exposed like the noumu at USJ and Hosu. Instead, their head was covered in a shock of blonde hair, partially matted with what looked like dried blood.

Whatever or whoever they were, they were reaching out to -

Izuku tensed. Someone was lying on the ground.

 _Are they hurt?_ Izuku moved closer, staying in the shadow of the gymnasium. If he could just get at a good angle, he might be able to help move the victim out of Aizawa's fighting range.

The intruder on the ground twisted up suddenly. Their long tail whipped around Aizawa's weapon and violently yanked it forward.

Aizawa roughly followed, stumbling and readjusting his grip.

The intruder turned and jumped at the injured person on the ground.

Aizawa threw his arms wide, Capturing Weapon zipping around and binding the intruder's legs and tail together. They fell to the ground with a breathless grunt, struggling even when the bindings wrapped around their wrists.

They rolled onto their side.

Izuku's heart dropped.

One for All roared through his veins, and he bolted forward.

"Midoriya! Stay back!" Izuku heard Aizawa shout.

One for All suddenly vanished, erased at Aizawa's glance. Izuku kept running, tears falling behind him.

Izuku skid to a stop and dropped to his knees. His hands shook as they hovered over that familiar scar and the unkempt, blond hair. The bindings cut into the scarred flesh, and horror churned in his gut.

He shouted at Aizawa, voice cracking, "What are you doing to All Might?!"

Aizawa froze, red gaze snapping downward, but his weapon remained wrapped tight around All Might.

Izuku's heart pounded, and tears welled in his eyes as he finally turned to look at All Might.

All Might looked back up at him, panting, clouded eyes wide and mouth parted in shock.

Almost as if…

 _He's scared. He looks scared. All Might looks scared._

Izuku smiled wide, and tears rolled down his face. One for All ebbed and flowed, stirred by his bubbling emotions, and spilled over. Carefully, he pulled and tore at the binds around All Might's wrists.

"It's alright. It's alright," he whispered. - _He's back. He's actually back! -_ Izuku's smile grew, "All Might. You're here! You're alright!"

With a last tug, the bindings came loose. Aizawa shouted something, but Izuku ignored him. All Might threw his arms around him in an instant, and his face pressed against Izuku's shoulder.

Izuku wrapped his arms around All Might's middle, pulling him up gently. His breath shook and hitched. A small sob escaped him, and he bowed his head over All Might's shoulder. Emotion and relief overflowed and he wept, shoulders heaving and arms shaking. One for All still pulsed across his skin, but he kept his embrace soft.

Something wet bled through Izuku's shirt at his shoulder, and he heard All Might laugh, soft and muffled. Fingers gently ran through his hair, and All Might gave him a small squeeze before pulling away.

"He-" All Might's voice was rough, and he cringed. He pointed to the side.

Izuku tensed, _The injured person!_

He turned to Aizawa and called out for him.

Aizawa rushed forward, loosening and pulling away his Capture Weapon as he passed, "I've got him."

Izuku watched as Aizawa lifted the stranger. The young man was bandaged and bleeding.

 _Who -?_

All Might suddenly shuddered and pitched to the side, only just catching himself.

"All Might!" Izuku caught his shoulder and quickly gave him a onceover.

All Might's eyes were clouded, his breathing shallow, his arm trembled under his own weight, and the smell of hospital air and spoiled sweat clung to him. Dried blood caked bits of his hair and the short beard on his face. It stuck to his bare skin, though none of it appeared to be his.

 _It must be the injured person's…_

"Midoriya," Aizawa called out, "help him up and follow me."

Izuku quickly nodded to Aizawa and carefully pulled All Might's arm around his shoulder. "It's okay, All Might. Let me help you. We'll get you both to Recovery Girl, okay?"

All Might shivered but managed to nod, shifting as Izuku slowly stood.

"That's it. It's alright. You've got -" Something snaked around Izuku's waist, and he started, looking down. His eyes widened and he stared, "You've got…"

 _A tail?_

It clicked.

Izuku glanced over All Might, who practically hung from his shoulder, finally taking in the rest of his appearance. A long tail, a stripe of thick hair along his spine, digitigrade legs that shook as they walked, sharp claws, pointed ears… Chains swung from thick shackles on each of his limbs.

Izuku's stomach clenched, and he pulled All Might closer. He bit his lip as tears welled in his eyes.

"W-what _happened_ to you?" Izuku whispered.

All Might barely shook his head, "L-long sto..ry. Later…" His squinted eyes were fixed ahead, on Aizawa's back and the person he was holding.

Izuku followed his gaze, "Who is he?"

"... A nur..se." All Might shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. He stumbled.

Izuku held him up, pausing while All Might got his feet back under him.

" 'm … sorry," he rasped between breaths.

"We're nearly there," Izuku muttered encouragingly, trying to smile, "You're going to be alright, okay?"

All Might hummed, watching his feet as they made their way into the main school building and to Recovery Girl's infirmary.

Aizawa entered the office first.

"Recovery Girl!" Aizawa rushed to the closest bed, laying the injured nurse down flat.

Recovery Girl hopped off her chair and moved quickly to the edge of the bed, examining the nurse and undoing the bloodied bandages around his waist.

"Your field patchwork needs improvement, Eraserhead," Recovery Girl quipped lightly as she discarded the ruined bandages. "Hand me those clean bandages, just in that cabinet there."

Aizawa swiftly retrieved them and the items she listed off. Recovery Girl's hands were nimble as she properly cleaned the nurse's wound.

"Did you roll this young man down a hill before bringing him?" Recovery Girl swatted Aizawa's hand with her cane, "Not to mention there's not nearly enough gauze to hold him together!"

Izuku jumped a little in the doorway when All Might chuckled dryly.

"M-my fault… I'm af..raid, Chiyo."

Recovery Girl blinked and looked up from her work. Her brows rose and wrinkled with worry as she took in All Might's appearance.

"Did … Did my b-best wi..th what I had," All Might smiled at her, though it slipped a little when his left leg gave out.

"I've got you," Izuku mumbled as he shifted his hold.

All Might nodded slightly, shakily pulling himself up. He panted with the effort.

Recovery Girl shook her head, lips pursed, and held her cane in a white knuckled grip.

"Bring him in, boy," she ordered. "Put him on a bed. I'll see to him in a moment."

Izuku nodded hastily. As soon as All Might had his feet back under him, Izuku led him to the second bed in the infirmary. The chains dragged loudly against the floor and rattled with each step.

Recovery Girl shot All Might another focused glance as they passed, shaking her head, and turned back to the injured nurse, "I'll get the details later. Right now, this young man needs more immediate help."

Izuku frowned and nodded in agreement as he stopped by the second bed. All Might sunk down and sat on its edge, sighing and closing his eyes. He slouched forward, elbows resting on his knees and head bowed.

Izuku's expression softened quizzically when the tail wrapped around his waist did not loosen its grip. He carefully sat beside All Might.

Recovery Girl hummed, her expression dark as she examined the cleaned puncture wound. "Oh my… I can help close the wound, but we should really have him transferred to a hospital." She wrapped the clean bandages around the nurse, "I know a great surgeon at Rish-"

"NO!" All Might roared, hackles raised.

Izuku jumped and stared at All Might. He instinctively grabbed All Might's hand, squeezing it the same way his mother would to comfort him. In the corner of his eye, he saw Aizawa's eyes glow a faint red, a hand hovering just by his scarf.

All Might clutched at his forehead and panted. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he coughed.

"No… Not… not b-back-," All Might shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. He swallowed and the low growl quieted, "H-here. Help him here…"

"Eraserhead," Recovery Girl's lips curled into a determined frown, "call Principal Nedzu at once. I need supplies for abdominal surgery. He'll want to know about this, so fill him in as best as you can."

Aizawa nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket and stepping into the hall.

Izuku leaned closer to All Might's bowed head. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his whole frame trembled with overexertion from his outburst.

"Is R-," Izuku furrowed his brow, "Is that where you were?"

All Might nodded, sightless eyes fixed on the floor.

Izuku swallowed the immediate thoughts of _So close? All this time?_ Instead his gaze drifted to the shackles around All Might's wrists. All Might absently picked at them and fidgeted with the end of a broken chain.

Izuku grit his teeth, and One for All stirred in his chest at his anger.

"We're getting these off of you," Izuku said, gently taking hold of All Might's hand.

All Might's reaction was painfully slow. He looked from the broken chain links to the injured nurse. His eyes darkened as he shuddered.

"All Might?" Izuku's voice was quiet.

All Might blinked and gave Izuku a tight smile. He flipped his arm over to give him better access.

Izuku smiled back and carefully dug his fingers under the metal on each side of the seam. One for All zipped down his arms and his grip tightened on the metal.

The lock groaned.

Izuku furrowed his brow and pushed a little more power into his fingers.

 _Eight percent…_

The metal creaked but did not break. Izuku pursed his lips and went over his limit. The lock broke with a snap and the shackle fell away and clattered onto the floor.

Izuku flinched as sharp pains darted through his fingers.

All Might grabbed Izuku's wrist, "D-don't hurt you..rself, my boy."

"But-" Izuku curled his throbbing fingers into fists.

All Might admonished Izuku with a look and a small shake of his head. He patted Izuku's fist, claws curling around and giving them a small squeeze, "Thank you… but I ca..n wait."

Recovery Girl looked up from her patient and nodded at All Might's words.

"Allow me."

Izuku jumped and turned.

Aizawa stood by the bed, tucking his phone into his pocket. He fished thin, metal tools from his utility belt.

 _Lock picks?_ Izuku thought as Aizawa knelt in front of All Might.

Aizawa pulled the shackle on All Might's leg forward, twisting it until the keyhole was visible. With a few small clicks of the thin tools, the shackle unlocked and fell away.

All Might sighed, stretching his leg and flexing clawed toes.

"Thank you, Aizawa," All Might said softly as his colleague moved to his other leg.

"Don't mention it," Aizawa said flatly.

All Might blinked, a slow look of surprise shifting his expression.

Izuku's brows furrowed.

"Something wrong?"

All Might glanced at him, then shook his head, "Nothing." A small, hopeful smile graced his face as the next shackle fell away.

Recovery Girl tapped her cane on the ground. Izuku glanced up, catching her thoughtful expression as she looked over the injured nurse. With new bandages on and an IV drip in, he looked somewhat better than he had before.

"I've stabilized him for now," Recovery Girl sighed, "but I need those supplies soon. The longer he has to wait, the harder his recovery will be."

Aizawa looked up from the shackle on All Might's wrist, "Principal Nedzu is calling in his connections. I have no doubt they'll be here soon." The shackle opened and Aizawa set it and the attached chain to the side with the rest. He glanced at All Might, "Any more?"

All Might rubbed at his wrists and shifted awkwardly, "On… my tail."

Aizawa nodded, expression serious.

Izuku lifted his arms when he felt the tail around his waist shift and pull away. He watched as All Might turned, hooked his arm around the tail's middle, and pulled it forward.

Aizawa wordlessly bent over the last shackle, picking at the lock.

"Thank you..." All Might said softly. The end of the tail thumped against the side of the bed.

"Hey, if you want this off, you need to hold still," Aizawa griped, though there was no malice in his voice, pushing at the tufted end when it hit his leg.

"Ah.. I don't qu..ite have … control of it yet," All Might admitted, catching the end of it and pulling it to his side, "Apologies."

Aizawa shook his head, and the last shackle opened with a click.

As Aizawa moved away to put the last shackle with the rest, All Might brushed his palms over the red rings left on his tail and his wrists. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply, and a small smile lingered on his face.

Izuku bowed his head, grinning at the sight. He rubbed at his eyes as they misted over and sniffed.

 _All Might's back. He's going to be okay._

A gentle weight rested on his head, and another heavier one wrapped around his waist. He wiped the last of his tears away and glanced over.

All Might ruffled Izuku's hair. He lifted his other clawed hand and rubbed the heel of his palm against his own eyes, squinting in the light. He looked… exhausted and worn down to the bone, but he smiled warmly.

The smile said it all.

 _I'm here._

* * *

Thank you for reading the first chapter of "Catalyst" the sequel to "Canvas!" Send me a review or PM if you have any questions or comments.


	2. Connecting the Dots

I do not own BNHA or its characters.

Enjoy Chapter Two of "Catalyst"

Cowritten and proofread by aoimikans on Tumblr.

* * *

 **Connecting the Dots**

Toshinori's ears twitched when two medical droids entered the office. He set aside the warm mug of tea Aizawa gave him, watching as they rolled into the room.

"Start prepping for surgery," Recovery Girl ordered the droids as she rounded Isamu's bed. They each responded with a mechanical "Yes Ma'am" and "I know."

Recovery Girl suddenly shoved a couple towels into Toshinori's arms. He blinked in surprise, carefully holding the folded towels to his chest.

"I need the three of you out," Recovery Girl stated. "I can't operate until the droids sanitize the space, and before I examine you," she prodded Toshinori's thigh with her cane, "you desperately need a bath."

"If you two want to help," she pointed her cane at Aizawa and Izuku, "get him to the room next door. The showers in there are for patients and have benches to accommodate the sick and injured. Eraserhead, if you would, find All Might a fresh change of clothes. And Midoriya, it would be best if All Might didn't fall. Look after him."

Izuku jolted and nodded earnestly, "Y-yes Ma'am!" Then he popped up and faced Toshinori, "I can hold the towels if you like."

"All Might," Aizawa interrupted, voice flat and even as ever, "Do you have a preference of clothing?"

Toshinori felt a lopsided smile on his lips at the attention, waving away Izuku's offer.

"Ju..st a shirt and some sw-sweatpants will do, Aizawa," he answered.

Aizawa nodded with a soft grunt and excused himself.

 _Hopefully, he can find the right drawer,_ Toshinori thought.

He blinked. When was the last time he'd seen his room in the dorms?

A poke at his arm pulled him from his thoughts. He looked down.

Recovery Girl frowned up at him and gave him another poke with her cane, "Go. Bathe. I have a surgery to perform."

Izuku stepped closer, and Toshinori put a hand on his shoulder. He pulled himself up carefully, his legs still unsteady. Furrowing his brow, he pushed himself to stand tall.

Pain flared in his hips, and he winced.

"Don't force yourself."

Toshinori glanced back at Recovery Girl, who gave him a peculiar, stern look as she donned gloves. He bowed his head with a rueful smile and allowed himself to bend slightly, just enough to ease the ache in his joints. _Same as ever, Chiyo._

He squeezed Izuku's shoulder, shifting the towels in his other arm, and gave the worried boy a tired grin, "Lead the way."

Izuku walked slowly, holding the door out of the infirmary open until Toshinori's tail curved into the hall.

Toshinori's claws clacked against the tile as they made their way towards the showers. He looked around, puzzled yet relieved that the school was devoid of its familiar life and chatter.

"What day is it?" he asked, squinting up the hall toward the cafeteria.

Izuku glanced back at him, his hand pausing on the doorknob, "Sunday. Um, or do you mean the date?"

"Ju..st the day," Toshinori sighed, too tired to ask, not yet sure he wanted to know how long he'd been… missing. He caught the pensive look the boy gave him and squeezed his shoulder, "It's.. It'll be alright, my boy."

Izuku hummed, brows furrowed in thought, and looked away. He pushed the door open and helped Toshinori inside.

 _Click!_

Toshinori flinched, hackles raising and eyes closing against the bright light. Pain lanced through his skull.

"A-All Might?" Izuku's voice was tense with concern.

"Can you tu..rn off the lights? They're… a bit bright," Toshinori managed, cringing at the roughness of his voice.

"Y-yeah, here." The lights snapped off, and Toshinori breathed a sigh of relief as his headache ebbed. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"Thank you, my boy," Toshinori gave Izuku's shoulder a grateful pat and followed him into the darkened bathroom.

Izuku squinted, "I haven't been in here for a while. If I remember right, the benches should be on the left wall …"

"I see them," Toshinori said. Five benches lined the left wall, one under each showerhead. Each shower station was fully stocked with soaps and bushes. Opposite them were a few large baths. It smelled of flowery soaps and bleach.

"You -?" Izuku glanced up and blinked in surprise, "Oh."

Toshinori looked away, not quite able to meet the boy's cautiously curious gaze, and froze.

On the wall opposite the door there was a long mirror. Two eyes reflected a blue-gray in the muted colors of the dark. His silhouette -

Toshinori shifted and pointedly fixed his gaze on the ground. A small frown twitched at the edge of his lips as they stopped by the first shower.

 _You have to face it sooner or later._

Toshinori slowly sat on bench, ignoring the way his claws scraped against the tile floor and his tail wrapped around the rest of the seat.

"Ah, um, would you like me to run some hot water in the bath area," Izuku said, gesturing to the side and lifting his index finger, "A hot bath does wonders for aches and pains… a-at least they do for me." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, fluffing his hair.

Toshinori chuckled and nodded, "That... would be nice, my boy."

Izuku grinned and went off to prepare the bath, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. He called out, "I'm right here if you need anything."

Toshinori smiled, affection blooming in his chest, and hung his towels on the nearby hooks. With clumsy, clawed fingers, he struggled undoing his belt, mildly surprised when he found the belt went over his tail while the waistline of his pants curved under it.

 _That young man's doing perhaps…_ he thought, tugging down the shredded remains of his pants and setting them aside. Nude, he quickly covered himself with the smaller towel to preserve his modesty despite the dark. Reaching up, he snagged the shower handle from its place and turned on the hot water. He held the showerhead in front of his hand, waiting for the water to warm. It pooled by his feet and soaked the long hair on the tip of his tail.

Toshinori sighed and closed his eyes as he wet his hair, the warm water running down his back and chest. _How long has it been?_ He mentally shook the question away and ran his hand over his scalp, carefully brushing out the knots. His claws caught painfully on some.

 _I need a haircut,_ he thought with a grunt.

The provided shampoo and conditioner smelled like lavender, and the body wash like lemon. It drove away the stench of hospital, sweat, and rust and filled the shower room with a pleasant aroma. He paused mid-rinse, running his hand down the back of his neck.

 _Ah. Right._

He hooked the shower head back on the wall and snagged a long handled brush. Covering it with soap, he worked up a lather in the line of hair down his back.

Toshinori snorted in amusement, moving to wash the hair along the base of his tail, _I'm going to need to buy more shampoo._

His movements slowed as the warm water soaked his back and soothed his sore muscles. The tip of his tail swished absently, sweeping water across the floor. The unconscious movement splashed water up against the rest of his tail and legs. He shivered slightly at the cooled droplets' touch.

Toshinori bent down to pick up the wayward tufted end.

He flinched as his scar twinged. A bone deep ache flared and spread down his spine. He forced himself to sit still, breathing slowly as he waited for the pain to pass. His tail unraveled from around the bench, swishing in irritation at his pain.

 _Stop it. Hold still, damn thi-_

It moved below the showerhead.

Toshinori tensed and shuddered as the hot water hit and ran over his tail.

 _New._

 _Wrong?_

 _No._

 _Just new._

His eyes lost focus as another shudder ran down his spine.

The water flowing evenly across his skin felt both familiar and entirely foreign. It soaked and weighed down the hair along the tail.

 _Heavy._

The new limb twitched, and he _felt_ every miniscule movement.

New information crashed against his skull: the weight on his lower back, the goosebumps rising on his skin, the twitch of new muscle, the ache in his bones.

The scrub brush dropped to the floor with a clatter.

His claws gripped at his wrists as the water, almost scalding, ran down his arms and crossed the raw bands. Water and soap stung his twisted legs, burning the fresh cuts and skin around his ankles. He felt the phantom weight of shackles on his skin.

He smelled blood.

 _No. I'm not -_

His breath quickened.

The air was thick.

His heart pounded.

 _Escape._

"All Might!"

Toshinori jolted and looked up, panting.

The water shut off, and a towel wrapped around his bent shoulders. He gripped at the cloth and grimaced as he struggled to catch his breath. He blinked, looking around the empty showers. His hackles were stiff under the towel. He shuddered at the ache along his spine, pulling the towel closer around himself.

Izuku stepped closer, "All Might… are you hurt?"

Toshinori took several deep breaths and smiled weakly.

"I'll… be alright, Midoriya, my boy. Just… not used to feeling with," his tail twitched and curled heavily on his lap. He shivered as the water cooled on his skin. "Maybe," he unconsciously rubbed at his wrists, "Maybe I'll hold off on the extra soak."

Concern flashed in Izuku's eyes, but he smiled and nodded, "Later then."

* * *

"The guy was huge!" the young woman exclaimed, pointing again to the blurry photo on her phone, "Just came out of that alley with some guy on his back all bloodied up."

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi nodded, jotting down the additional detail in his notebook. He pointed to the nearest alleyway, "That one there?"

"Yeah! Rushed out of there like a bat out of Hell! Pretty sure I saw it take a swipe at someone," said the shopper's partner, clutching to her arm and nervously fading in and out of visibility. "I still say it looked like one of those things in Hosu. I was there you know!"

Naomasa frowned grimly.

"No, no. He's got to be some sort of new vigilante," the first woman said, wrapping one of her four arms around the smaller woman. "They keep popping up more and more since All Might retired. Don't be scared, Hana."

Naomasa sighed and closed his small notebook, "Thank you for your time, ladies."

 _Over thirty people_ , Naomasa thought, rubbing at the deep bags under his eyes as the two shoppers turned away, _and no clear picture or description._

The detective tucked his notebook in his pocket with a tired grunt and ducked into the alley. It was nondescript and empty aside from a single dumpster on the side of a cafe. Naomasa walked slowly, scanning the ground for any-

He crouched.

On the dirty pavement were two drops of blood, still relatively fresh.

"Sansa!" Naomasa called over his shoulder.

Officer Tamakawa quickly entered the alleyway, "Yes sir?"

"There's blood here. Mark this and cordon off this alley," Naomasa ordered, standing, "I don't want foot traffic in here until crime scene techs are through here."

"Yes sir," Officer Tamakawa replied with a small salute.

Naomasa heard Sansa return to their squad car for the police tape, and he refocused on the droplets of blood. He jerked in surprise when his phone rang loudly.

"Detective Tsukauchi," he answered quickly.

"Good morning, Detective," chirped a familiar voice.

"Nedzu?" Naomasa's gut clenched, and his grip on his phone tightened.

"He's back."

* * *

Naomasa walked briskly down the halls of U.A. His shoulders squared stiffly in apprehension. Dread and hesitant relief fought in his chest as he turned toward the main building's infirmary.

He froze, and his heart leapt. He'd recognize that shock of hair anywhere!

"Toshi-!" He paused mid-call.

Toshinori was bent, his steps slow and unsteady. He wore his old, faded U.A. sweatshirt, grey sweatpants, and a small towel draped over his shoulders. He walked beside Izuku Midoriya, leaning heavily against the boy.

Midoriya smiled up at his mentor, "Would you like me to carry you on my back like old times?"

" _Nonsense!_ I can still walk, my boy!" Toshinori threw his head back, and his barking laughter echoed down the hall.

Naomasa relaxed, and he stepped forward with a lopsided smile.

Toshinori looked up.

"Tsukauchi?" Toshinori straightened, something long waved behind him. He flinched, his free hand pressing against his hip.

Midoriya halted, right arm swiftly curling around Toshinori's waist.

"Take it slow," the boy looked down at Toshinori's legs, carefully helping him adjust his stance, "Don't move just yet."

Toshinori stiffened, standing frozen. His eyes lost their spark.

Naomasa's relief drained away. He _knew_ that look.

 _I'm making another._

"Okay," Midoriya said, shifting a little to better support Toshinori, "That feels better right?"

"Hmm?" Toshinori blinked, the light in his eyes slowly returning. He frowned slightly, confusion weighing heavily on his furrowed brows, "Y..yes."

Toshinori's hand left his hip.

The detective stared, following the movement. His hand looked-

Naomasa heard a click on the tile as Toshinori shifted. His eyes snapped down and saw his friend's bare feet.

 _Oh Toshinori…_ Naomasa's heart sank.

Toshinori looked back up, and Naomasa did his best to school his expression. He approached the two, taking off his hat in greeting, and tried not to look for any more … changes.

A flash of blonde hair waved behind Toshinori and caught Naomasa's attention.

Despite his best efforts, he stared.

Toshinori shifted awkwardly, gaze dropping to the side. The tail disappeared behind him only to reappear and wrap around Midoriya.

Naomasa mentally shook himself and smiled, "Glad to have you back, All Might."

His friend gave him a forced grin, "Glad…" He coughed, frowning and rubbing at his chest, "Glad to be back."

"How are you?" Naomasa asked, his tone soft and serious.

Toshinori glanced at Midoriya before answering, "Better now th-"A shudder shook Toshinori's frail form, and he swayed unsteadily.

Naomasa moved closer, extending his arm, "Here, let me help."

Midoriya shifted to make room and -

Toshinori inhaled sharply, eyes widening. He hunched, claws gripping at his sweatshirt, "Sh _-shit!_ "

"All Might!" Naomasa echoed Midoriya's surprised shout.

Toshinori fell, slipping from Midoriya's grip, and caught himself with his hands as he stumbled forward. He stood, panting and trembling on all fours.

Naomasa stared in horror at his friend's warped body. _What did he do to you?_

There was a heavy _thump_ , and the detective looked over Toshinori's bent back. His tail lay on the ground, curling tightly around itself. The tufted tip twitched with agitation. His arms and legs shook and gave out.

Naomasa quickly knelt and grunted as his friend's full weight fell on him.

"All Might," Naomasa squeezed his shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"Back-" Toshinori gasped for breath, "Another-," A pained noise cut off his words and groaned low in his throat. He pressed his forehead against Naomasa's shoulder.

"Midoriya, help me get him inside." Naomasa said, keeping his voice even for the boy.

Midoriya nodded sharply and helped lift All Might, barely controlled power zipping across his skin.

"Recovery Girl! It's All Might!" Midoriya announced as they burst into the infirmary.

Recovery Girl got up from her desk and briskly walked around the first bed, "Can't get a minute of peace with you two. Put him on this bed."

Naomasa and Midoriya obeyed, gently carrying and laying Toshinori on the second bed. Recovery Girl quickly shooed them aside, taking his pulse.

"What hurts?" she asked.

Toshinori grit his teeth. A sheen of sweat coated his forehead as his eyes squeezed shut and his claws dug into the mattress.

"Spine," he spat out as a spasm wracked him.

"All Might…" Midoriya's voice shook, "What's -"

"One moment boy," Recovery Girl interrupted. She rounded the bed, unceremoniously yanking up the back of Toshinori shirt up. "TB-2, scan his back."

"Yes Ma'am," the droid replied, turning from the person in the bed over. A thin bar of red light scanned Toshinori from his head to the tip of his tail. "Scan complete. Significant calcium buildup along vertebrae C1 to T12."

Recovery Girl's brows furrowed slowly, "TB-2, retrieve spinal data from previous patient."

"Yes Ma'am," the droid hummed, "Significant softening of calcium deposits along spine. Diagnosis?"

"Proceed."

"Weakening of connection to spinal pedicles. Shedding."

Recovery Girl paled, expression grim.

Naomasa looked back and forth between Recovery Girl and the droid, "What's happening to All Might?"

Midoriya shifted nervously, his hands covering his mouth, "He's getting another one, isn't he?"

Recovery Girl sighed, pressing her fingertips to Toshinori's spine and running them down his back, "Yes, boy. I think that is a safe conclusion."

Another shudder wracked Toshinori, and he curled in on himself and panted.

"Ma'am," the TB-2 droid chirped, "Without intervention, the risk of bone embrittlement is high."

"Prepare calcium and vitamin D supplements and an IV drip," Recovery Girl ordered. She glanced across the bed, "Detective Tsukauchi, help me remove his shirt."

Naomasa nodded, brows furrowed as he came forward and lifted Toshinori's torso from the bed. He frowned, concern constricting his lungs when he felt the feverish heat of his friend's skin.

Toshinori groaned, teeth bared in pain as Naomasa removed the sweatshirt and passed it to Midoriya.

Naomasa wrapped his arm around Toshinori's back to lay him gently down. Something tickled the inside of his wrist. The detective glanced at Toshinori's back and winced at the line of blonde hair along his friend's spine.

 _How many quirks did he -?_ Naomasa pressed his lips tight, as he helped his friend onto his good side.

"IV prepared," TB-2 said with a beep.

Recovery Girl didn't look up from her examination of Toshinori's back, still pressing against his spine with her brows furrowed, "Administer."

"Yes Ma'am."

Naomasa pulled Midoriya aside as the droid approached, sterile needle extended.

Claws flashed.

 _Cru-ssssssssssss_

Hydraulics whined and hissed. Toshinori's hand wrapped around the metal arm, knuckles white and hackles bristling. The thin metal of the arm groaned and bent in his grip. Piercing blue eyes locked onto the IV needle.

"All Might," Recovery Girl chided firmly, though her voice was soft, "You need the fluids."

Toshinori didn't move.

Naomasa bent down to Toshinori's eye level, "T- All Might, listen to Recovery Girl. She's trying to help."

Toshinori's tail thumped against the bed in irritation, and his grip on the droid tightened.

"All… All Might?"

Toshinori shivered.

Midoriya stepped around Naomasa, hands hovering over Toshinori's, "It's safe here," the boy smiled, "Try to relax, okay?"

Toshinori shuddered and looked to Midoriya, then to Naomasa and Recovery Girl, blinking wearily. He tensed briefly and reluctantly released the metal arm.

"Arm damaged," TB-2 moped.

"Oh hush. I'll take care of him," Recovery Girl said, preparing a second needle. She gave Toshinori a stern look, "You better not break my arm, you hear?"

Toshinori looked warily at the needle she had in hand, his lips pressed in a hard line. Slowly, he laid back against the pillow and nodded with a sigh. He offered his arm, claws held loose.

"Ha..ave I told you how much I hate needles?" Toshinori griped.

"Every time, dear." Recovery Girl huffed with a small smile, patting Toshinori's arm.

Naomasa suppressed a sigh of relief as Recovery Girl easily slipped the IV in place.

A flicker of guilt coiled in his chest when Toshinori closed his eyes and lay his head on the pillow. As much as he wanted his friend to rest and recover, he was here for more than one reason. He cleared his throat and caught Recovery Girl's eye. Giving her an apologetic smile, he rested his hand on the badge clipped to his belt.

Recovery Girl pursed her lips and looked to Midoriya. The poor boy fidgeted, green eyes fixed on his mentor, and looked at a loss for what to do. Recovery Girl padded over to him and extended her hand, "Here, have some gummies."

Midoriya jolted and caught the candies she dropped, stuttering, "T-thank you?"

Recovery Girl shook her head, "Boy, if you would like to stay with All Might in the infirmary, you should get overnight things," she smiled wryly, "I'm sure the Detective and I can handle ourselves until you get back."

"Huh?" Midoriya looked up from the candies on his palm. His eyes widened, and he grinned, "O-oh, right! Yes! Thank you! I'll be right back."

Toshinori chuckled, startling Naomasa. He shifted just enough to give his successor a small wave, "Take your time, my boy. I'm not going anywhere."

Midoriya nodded earnestly, thanking Naomasa before hastily exiting the infirmary.

Recovery Girl shook her head at the retreating boy before quietly drawing a plain curtain around Toshinori's bed. She nudged the TB-2 droid closer to the bed, ordering, "Keep an eye on him." With that, she nodded to Naomasa and closed the curtain.

Naomasa sighed and sat in the chair beside the bed, "No need to pretend with me, Toshinori."

Toshinori slumped back and wiped sweat from his upper lip as his pain appeared to lessen. His eyes hid in the shadow of his brow, but he chuckled. Carefully shifting on the bed and wincing, Toshinori let his guard drop.

"Old habits," he croaked. His legs kicked weakly at the thin sheet on the mattress, "I fe..el like shit. Goddamn..."

Naomasa huffed, "Anyone with eyes could see that."

Toshinori shook his head and shivered, reaching up and gingerly pressing the flats of his claws against the back of his neck, " _That bastard._ "

Naomasa tensed, "What?"

"All for One," he finally said and gestured toward the bed on the other side of the curtain, "The young man was trying to help. All for One took his quirk and -" Toshinori's breath hitched and he stiffened. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his claws dug into the thin mattress.

Naomasa's stomach clenched. He hadn't seen Toshinori like this since… His gaze drifted to the mass of scar tissue on his friend's side.

"Update:" the TB-2 droid suddenly chirped, "Growth rate decreasing. Newly formed spinal pedicles hardening. Recommendation: Stabilization of calcium levels. Risk of complications: Low. Resuming observation."

Naomasa frowned at the droid, "Spinal…? Oh," he glanced back at the drawn curtain.

" _That bastard._ "

Toshinori snorted, and his tail lightly tapped the bed, "Glad we're in agreement."

Naomasa shook his head, folding his hands together and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Naomasa…" Toshinori swallowed, brows furrowing slightly. He drew a slow breath, "I need to know. I wasn't always... conscious of the time. How long was I gone?"

Naomasa's head bowed, and guilt stirred like nausea in his gut.

"Today," he met Toshinori's gaze, "Today would have been the twenty-second day."

"Twenty…" Toshinori blinked, stunned. A little of the light faded. His frail body shook, and his eyes squeezed shut.

Naomasa tensed, "To-?"

"Okay. No, I'm alright," Toshinori took a shuddering breath and, when opened his eyes, determination burned, "What do you need to know?"

Naomasa marginally relaxed, "I don't need the details. Do you know where you were? Do you remember what happened after you left my apartment?"

Toshinori nodded, "I remember. All for One had my driver's voice mimicry quirk. Took me by surprise. Woke up in a hospital."

The guilt in the detective's gut coiled into his chest.

 _Hospital? No… We've been looking…_ Naomasa sighed, resigned. _He's here now._

"Rishi General," Toshinori said.

Naomasa looked back up, eyes widening.

Toshinori shifted on the bed, "When I escaped, I left through a basement door. Out of an old wing." He pointed to the bed on the other side of the curtain, "The young man over there is a nurse. He was a prisoner as much as I was. I… owe him more than I can give."

Toshinori rubbed at the back of his neck, lost in thought. He blinked and looked up, "You'll probably want to send someone over there soon. I locked a nurse loyal to All for One in the room where I was kept. She has some form of metal manipulation quirk. I only know her name is Tetsumi." Toshinori scoffed. His eyelids fluttered wearily, "Small woman, but a sharp tongue."

Toshinori's tail curled around, and he pushed the tufted end away as it brushed against his stomach. He sighed, "Recovery Girl should still have the shackles… for evidence."

 _Shackles?_ Naomasa glanced at Toshinori's wrists, and a flash of anger burned through him. Raw red lines marked Toshinori's skin. He maintained a neutral expression. _Scarred again._

Toshinori quirked an eyebrow, "Who's pretending now? Giving me the Detective face?"

Naomasa let out a pained laugh and rubbed at his forehead, "You caught me. But this _is_ serious. We'll find him, Toshinori. I promise."

 _I won't let all that you've done, all that you've gone through, go to waste._

Naomasa stood up, "Is there anything else?"

Toshinori stifled a yawn and looked back towards the curtain, "His name is Isamu. See to it that his family is safe."

Naomasa smiled at his friend, unchanged where it mattered most, "Right. I'll keep you updated. It's really good to have you back."

* * *

Thank you for reading "Catalyst" the sequel to "Canvas!" Send me a review or PM if you have any questions or comments.


	3. Holding On

I do not own BNHA or its characters.

Enjoy Chapter Three of "Catalyst"

Cowritten and proofread by aoimikans on Tumblr.

* * *

 **Holding On**

Rishi General Hospital was old, originally built before the first quirk appeared. Its state-of-the-art facilities and role as a teaching hospital for the nearby medical school brought in patients and students from across Japan. It quickly grew as it kept pace with the ever-changing nature of humanity. The multiple interconnected medical buildings, pristine landscaping, and parking lots spanned across two whole city blocks.

On the southwest corner stood the original building, squat in comparison to its surroundings at only three floors high. Under the gray sky, the faded brick walls and cracked paint around the windows gave the building the aura of something forgotten. A plain sign hung above the first floor door that simply read: "Storage."

Naomasa climbed out of his car, raising his badge as he passed the police blockade. Lights flashed from the squad cars lining the road, and a cold wind rustled the police tape surrounding the storage building. A small, scattered crowd gathered along the outside of the barrier, the majority of them wearing scrubs. Nurses and doctors glanced around, speaking to each other in low voices and shrugs.

A group of officers and a couple forensic techs, tool cases in hand, gathered by a short stairwell. Two officers emerged, climbing up the stairs. Between them was a small woman, her head held high and thin lips pursed in a defiant frown despite her ragged appearance. She wore pale pink scrubs and her silvery hair fell from her disheveled bun in flyaway strands. There was a nasty, purple bruise on her temple.

Naomasa watched them pass, spotting the specialized plastic cuffs pinning the woman's arms behind her back.

"Sansa," Naomasa called out.

Officer Tamakawa's ears swiveled back, and he turned. After a brief greeting, Sansa led Naomasa down the stairs.

"Your source was right," Sansa said, holding the basement door open for the detective, "Everything was where you said, including the nurse. Seems her quirk is limited to things she can see and couldn't unlock the deadbolt."

"Do we know her full name?" Naomasa asked, glancing around the dark hall.

"Tetsumi Inoshita. She -" Sansa held out a gloved hand, "Careful, sir."

Naomasa glanced down, and his brows furrowed. Bloodied hand and footprints trailed down the center of the hall.

 _Was the young nurse injured that badly...?_

"The forensic techs haven't been down here yet," Sansa said, cautiously moving to the far right side of the hall, whiskers twitching and ears swivelling nervously.

Naomasa nodded and followed behind, though his eyes were glued to the bloody steps. Dread coiled around his frayed nerves like it had when he was a rookie, walking in on his first homicide crime scene.

Sansa paused just before the fifth door and glanced back at him. He fidgeted.

"Is…" his ears flattened back, "He's alright, right? All M- your _friend_ ,Yagi wasn't here, just the nurse. He's alright?"

Naomasa pressed his lips in a hard line and nodded, "He's safe."

Officer Tamakawa's shoulders slumped in relief. He stepped over the prints in front of the door and gestured inside.

"In here," he said, then shuffled slightly, nose wrinkling in disgust, "Fair warning… It's not pretty."

Naomasa took a slow breath, "Thank you, Sansa."

He stepped through the doorway.

The smell hit him first. Sickness, sweat, and blood. Their miasma sent Naomasa reeling in the entry alone. Were it not for the frigid temperature, the detective was certain the stench would be suffocating. He pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it over his nose and mouth, blinking away the water in his eyes.

A single fluorescent ceiling fixture cast white light on the small room.

Naomasa's blood froze.

" _Fuck,_ " the handkerchief muffled his curse and pressed painfully against his face as his eyes followed the trail of blood deeper into the room, " _Fuck._ Goddamn _chains._ "

Thick, heavy chains hung from brackets on the opposite wall. They coiled below, ends cut short and haphazardly cast aside. Dust and debris littered the floor, all that remained of a great chunk of the wall. Deep gouges marred the drywall edging the hole, and bloody claw marks stained the foundational cement.

Naomasa shuddered as he followed the marks downward.

Countless scratches lined the tile parallel to the back wall as if… he had paced. Back and forth. Enough to leave a permanent scar in the floor.

 _Like an animal._ Naomasa's jaw clenched as guilt twisted his insides, _Toshinori. I'm so..._

He turned away from the chains and the scratched trail, drawing a long breath and slowly letting it out.

 _I can't be of use to him like this,_ Naomasa's expression calmed, growing neutral and focused. Sharp, dark eyes scanned the room.

A metallic glint caught his attention. Bolt cutters lay on the floor in the corner of the room. They were a bit small, more suitable for thick wire than the chains curled on the floor, and the their blades were visibly dulled. It was lucky they had worked at all.

Between the bolt cutters and the chains, an IV pole stood anchored solidly in the ground. From it hung a near-empty solution bag, its tubing draped and tangled on the floor in a small puddle of clear liquid.

 _That needs to be tested._

"Sansa," Naomasa turned to the doorway, "I've seen enough. Call in the forensic techs. They ought to start sorting through this mess."

"Yes sir," Officer Tamakawa answered and retreated down the hall.

Naomasa sighed. Giving the room a last look before -

Something pale caught his eye, just against the counter. Slowly, the detective crouched, bending to look more closely at the object.

Naomasa scowled, _Bastard._

A blood-stained bone spear, so similar to the weapon that killed Hibiki Genji, lay partially hidden under the edge of the counter. Dried blood stuck in the grooves of the twisted bone.

Footsteps drew closer, and there were twin _thunks_ as the forensic techs set their supplies down in the hall.

"Sir?" Officer Tamakawa poked his head into the room, covering his wrinkling his nose against the stench.

Naomasa stood, gesturing to the spear, "We have a possible connection to the Genji homicide - the one from last month. Make sure they pull the case file and compare the murder weapons to this. I want those reports on my desk, A.S.A.P."

Sansa scribbled on his notepad and replied, "Yes, Detective!"

With a nod to the techs, Naomasa strode from the room and followed Toshinori's uneven footsteps from the hall. He paused at the door, hand hovering over the bloodied prints left on the pushbar.

His brows furrowed, and he pushed the neighboring door open.

He had a nurse to interrogate.

* * *

Izuku shifted the small duffle bag strap and quietly pushed the infirmary door closed.

"Recovery Girl?" He called out.

"Over here, boy," Recovery Girl answered softly from her desk beside the first bed, swivelling her chair around. "Come on in."

Izuku stepped inside and glanced around the infirmary. It was quiet and darkened, lights dimmed with the vertical blinds drawn. Detective Tsukauchi was absent, and both medical bots stood beside the first bed. A single scanning light zipped across the young injured nurse, centering around his abdomen.

Recovery Girl caught his gaze and gestured to the stranger.

"He's healing well. All Might brought him in just in time," she huffed with a small smile and shook her head, "As usual."

Hopping down from her chair, she walked around the beds, gesturing for Izuku to follow, "There's a cot here for you," Recovery Girl turned, lifting her index finger, and gave Izuku a firm look, "This will only be a one night deal. Then it's back to the dorms for you. You need to focus on your studies. All Might would no doubt say the same."

Izuku bit his lower lip but nodded, dropping his duffel bag at the foot of the cot, "I, um, brought my school work."

"Good," Recovery Girl tapped her cane on the ground, "Go on and get yourself settled."

"Yes Ma'am," Izuku replied quietly, unzipping his bag and pulling out the simple pillow and blanket he brought for himself and laying them out. Cot readied he set aside his school work and changes of clothes. On the bottom of the bag lay a thick yellow blanket, decorated with a large, blue **All M** in the center surrounded by red and white stars. He pulled it out, and finally looked at All Might.

Izuku blinked in surprise.

All Might was asleep. He lay on his side, curled inward. His knees almost pressed against his bare chest, and clawed hands gripped his pillow. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed, and a small frown pulled at his lips. Cuts and bruises marked his skin, superficial wounds already healing and fading under Recovery Girl's care.

He shivered, tail wrapping in a tighter arc around his body.

Izuku smiled a little sadly, and pulled the thick blanket over his mentor, careful not to wake him. He heard a soft sigh and watched as All Might shifted and drew the blanket closer, claws lightly piercing the fabric.

All Might relaxed, uncurling and sinking more deeply into his pillow. The worry lines on his brow faded as his expression eased.

Izuku clasped his trembling hands together and closed his eyes.

All Might breathed, soft and slow.

A gentle reminder.

 _I'm here_ , _I'm here._

When Izuku opened his eyes, tears trickled down his cheeks, and he gripped his shirt.

His heart hurt, aching and overcome with emotion. Suppressing the sob bubbling up his throat, he turned away and cleared his throat.

Izuku rubbed at his eyes, sniffling quietly.

Recovery Girl padded over, placing a small hand on his elbow and holding out a box of tissues, "There, there. Enough of that."

Izuku gratefully accepted the tissues, sinking onto his cot, and he dabbed his face dry.

Head bowed, he took a steadying breath.

"Do you think… Can you…," Izuku gestured helplessly to All Might, unable to voice the questions that burned in his heart. The words, too heavy, caught in his throat.

 _Do you think you can help him?_

And the most dreadful, unspeakable, _Is this going to be permanent?_

Recovery Girl's expression darkened. She sighed, folding her hands over the top of her cane. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and eyes distant, "There are some things even I cannot heal."

Izuku's hands curled into fists in his lap. One for All roiled under his skin, threatening to burst, and he took a deep breath.

"B-but-," his brows furrowed, and he shook his head, thoughts racing, "There has to be something -"

"In a way," Recovery Girl interrupted with a small shrug, "There is no need. He appears healthy, despite suffering from extreme exhaustion. His body already accepted the new quirks and, all things considered, seems to have adapted well. His main trial will be a mental and emotional one. Learning to accept and live with the changes."

Izuku bowed his head, "I see…"

The healing heroine reached out and patted his fist, "He has always bounced back, Midoriya. It's not the first time he's had to deal with physical and lifestyle changes," she gave him a kind smile, "The best help we can offer is to be here with him."

Recovery Girl dropped some gummies onto Izuku's lap, "Enough doddling, I should do a more thorough exam…" she moved to the head of All Might's bed. Then she paused, small hands resting on the hem of the blanket.

"Ah," Her expression softened, and she tucked the blanket under his chin, "Perhaps later."

All Might slept on.

* * *

Soft. Warm. Safe.

The sounds of pencil on paper, the turn of a page, and soft muttering drifted through the air, gently tugging at Toshinori's consciousness.

 _Hmm… Must have dozed off in the livingroom._

It wouldn't have been the first time.

Toshinori often read in the dorm's shared space while his students lounged around him, resting after a long day. Using the last of One for All had taken a good chunk of his excess stamina, and Toshinori frequently drifted off to sleep while relaxing around his students. Not that they minded. Toshinori usually woke drowning in pillows and blankets and surrounded by quietly dozing teens.

He stirred slightly.

The couch was a bit firmer than he remembered.

Toshinori pulled the soft blanket closer, groaning a little as he stretched his sore legs. His claws caught on the blanket and his tail arched with the stretch.

 _Oh. Dammit…_ Toshinori huffed quietly, pressing his face into the pillow as both consciousness and reality slipped into place. The tip of his tail twitched in irritation.

 _Stop it…_

The tail flicked to the side and out from under the warm blanket, partially sliding off the bed.

 _Damn thing not listening_.

Toshinori pouted as the urge to glare at the renegade limb rose.

The pencil scratching paused.

A warm weight brushed along the tufted end. Then again.

 _Who -?_ Blearily blinking away his sleep, Toshinori shifted just enough to look toward the foot of the bed.

His brows rose and a small, lopsided smile pulled up the corners of his mouth.

Izuku sat cross-legged on a cot, leaning back against the foot of Toshinori's bed. An open textbook lay propped on one leg and a notebook on the other. He muttered softly, reading aloud and pinching his lower lip. His other hand absently pet the blonde tuft of hair draped over his shoulder. The boy was so engrossed in his studies, Toshinori doubted he realized what he was doing.

Toshinori snorted, flicking the tail up and against the back of the boy's neck.

Izuku jumped with a yelp and a barely suppressed laugh, shoulders scrunching up to his ears.

"I didn't know you were ticklish, my boy," Toshinori chuckled, swatting the back of the boy's head before pulling the tail away.

"Y-you're up!" Izuku hastily set his books aside and twisting around. Toshinori didn't miss the way the boy's sharp eyes searched his face. "How're you feeling?"

"Rested," Toshinori croaked, pushing himself up to sit. He grunted a little as his joints popped and creaked.

 _I'm getting old._

He heard the boy snort and attempt to suppress a laugh.

"What?" Toshinori asked, an amused smile growing at Izuku's expressions, shifting from humor to what looked like an attempt at politely neutral. Humor won out.

"Your… You've got," Izuku pointed to his own hair, red in the face and shaking with suppressed laughter.

Toshinori reached up, "Ah." A rather bad case of bedhead, one side fanned out flat and the other as unruly as usual. He chuckled at himself and let it be.

"How -," Yawning wide, jaw popping lightly, he tapped his wrist, "How long did I sleep?" When the boy didn't answer, Toshinori paused mid-stretch to look back at him.

Izuku stared wide-eyed at him, the humor fading with his smile.

Toshinori's brows furrowed. He was about to ask what was wrong when he felt a tap on his arm.

"Just shy of 12 hours," Recovery Girl said from Toshinori's right, giving his arm another tap with her cane. She sat on her tall desk chair between Isamu's and Toshinori's beds.

"Come closer," she said, beckoning for him with her hand.

Toshinori quirked an eyebrow curiously, but leaned forward. He nearly jerked away when Chiyo took hold of his face.

Recovery Girl's fingers traced the back of his jaw, thumbs pressing at the joint.

"Open up," she said, plucking a wooden tongue depressor from her white coat.

"Hardly a minute after I wake u- _uack!_ " Toshinori gave Chiyo an annoyed look as she continued to press down on his tongue.

Recovery Girl ignored him and the irritable _whap_ of his tail on the bed. She shined a small light into his mouth, frowning slightly.

"Thought so. Open all the way," she ordered, giving Toshinori a firm look.

Toshinori sighed, glancing briefly at young Midoriya. An unnamed unease lightly clenched his gut, but he shoved it down. With little thought, he pulled his jaw back with a soft _pop_ and opened as far as he was able.

Recovery Girl nodded, feeling around the back and sides of his jaw.

"You have flexible quadrate bones attached here and here," she pulled the tongue depressor out and traced the new bones under each cheekbones. "You can close now."

Toshinori carefully closed his mouth and rubbed at the sore spots at the back of his jaw.

"Does… does that hurt?"

Toshinori's heart sank at the break in the boy's voice. He turned back to Izuku.

The boy was trying desperately not to stare, his fingers interlaced together to keep himself from fidgeting.

Toshinori sighed. He reached out and ruffled the boy's hair, earning him a quiet squawk. When Izuku looked back up, Toshinori smiled.

"It doesn't hurt, my boy. Just feels a bit different," he gave his hair another short ruffle, "Don't worry."

"Is there anything that _does_ hurt?" Chiyo asked from her chair.

Toshinori sat back again, frowning in thought.

Recovery Girl shifted at his hesitation and gestured to Izuku, "Midoriya, if you would give us a moment."

"Oh! Yes, I -" Izuku moved to stand.

Toshinori's tail shifted and swiftly wrapped around the boy's chest.

Izuku blinked in surprise, arms raised above the limb around his torso. Slowly, he settled back on the cot with a pensive, almost uncertain light in his eyes.

Chiyo huffed, giving Toshinori a look between exasperation and amusement.

Toshinori cleared his throat awkwardly, startled gaze leaving his tail.

"No," he said, "It's alright. He can stay."

"If you insist," Recovery Girl said with a small smile and a shake of her head. She leaned back in her chair, twisting slightly to snag a small stack of papers off the side table.

"I had TB-2 run a few scans while you slept," Chiyo flipped through the pages, "How does your back feel?"

"Bruised," Toshinori admitted, reaching back and pressing against his neck. A dull ache flared along his spine. He paused, brows furrowed, and ran his fingers farther down, brushing his hackles out of the way. Bumps pressed up from his skin.

"Hmm, that's not surprising," Recovery Girl said with a nod. She passed a few pages over, pointing to images of Toshinori's spine, "It is safe to say you are developing spikes. There's been steady growth, and taking into considering your body mass I believe they will be fully developed by Friday."

Toshinori stared down at the papers in his lap. The scans of his back showed a buildup of bone mass extending from his vertebrae, growing closer to his skin with each new scanned image.

"That's normal for this quirk in case you were wondering," Recovery Girl said, gesturing to Isamu asleep on the next bed, "There was an ID in his pant pocket. Isamu Sato, registered nurse of three years. Principal Nedzu was able to pull some strings to find his medical history and registered quirk information. His quirk growth description matches the one your are developing."

Toshinori paused his tracing of the uppermost spike nub and bowed his head, "How is he?"

Chiyo hummed, "The poor boy desperately needs rest, but other than that he is recovering well from his surgery. The spikes on his back are shedding early and far more quickly than the registry described." She gave Toshinori's arm a reassuring pat, "Don't worry yourself. He'll heal up properly under my care."

Toshinori's shoulders slouched in relief, "Thank you, Chiyo."

Recovery Girl shook her head and pointed across the bed with her cane, "Now let the poor boy go before he suffocates. I have enough patients to worry about as is."

Toshinori frowned in confusion before he felt small taps on his tail that sent jolts up his spine. His tail loosened as he looked over.

Izuku let out a gasping sigh. The boy's cheeks were pink, breath coming out in uneven puffs.

"Thanks," Izuku managed, rubbing at his chest above the tail still loosely wrapped around him.

Toshinori's eyes widened. He hadn't noticed tightening his grip on the boy. He tried to move his tail away, frowning a little when it only twitched.

"Sorry, my boy," he tried to laugh it off, pulling at his tail with his hands and heaving it back onto the bed, "I swear this thing has a mind of its own."

"Don't be ridiculous, All Might," Recovery Girl scoffed. "Surely, you recognize your own emotions?" She playfully tapped her cane against the top of Toshinori's head and leaned back in her chair, "A tail is just an extension of the body. The only mind it has is your own."

Toshinori dropped his tail back onto the bed and rubbed at the top of his head. The tip of his tail twitched as he frowned in annoyance.

He blinked, staring at the tufted end as it stilled.

 _Oh. I am dense._

He snorted at himself and watched as the tail twitched once more and lightly tap the bed.

Toshinori closed his eyes, letting himself focus on the sensation of the limb, and a faint smile pulled at his lips. _Me, huh?_

* * *

The sun had long since set, and the sky was dark behind the window blinds. Despite the light pollution of the city and U.A. campus, the moon and a few stubborn stars shone brightly between the passing clouds.

A small lamp dimly lit the infirmary with a soft, yellow glow that was kind to Toshinori's sensitive eyes.

Toshinori relaxed, belly pleasantly warm and full. The nostalgic, lingering taste of eggs and rice soothed his worries, if only for a moment.

He absently rubbed at his chest.

Heartburn.

"Here," Chiyo walked over and passed a tablet to him, "This should help slow that Devour quirk down. It's better than the empty calories of aluminum, no nutritional value in that whatsoever."

Toshinori took the tablet with quiet thanks, popping it in his mouth and chewing slowly. The tablet was unsurprisingly chalky and metallic. His chest cooled and gut settled. Sighing deeply, he leaned back against his pillow, "Thank you, Chiyo."

Recovery Girl nodded, "I'll have more of those made for you. A little antacid mixed with calcium supplements and iron. Should help with your heartburn and increased bone mass. Though this is only a short-term fix. We can try other methods as time goes on."

Toshinori nodded, "Hopefully it will eliminate the strange cravings."

"Well, aluminum isn't the strangest craving I've heard of. Do you know how many quirks require specialized diets?" Recovery Girl asked, rounding Isamu's bed and checking on his bandages, "Almost called poison control on someone who drank laundry detergent."

Toshinori chuckled quietly, happily tapping his tail against the mattress and glancing over to the left.

Izuku lay on his cot, pencil still in hand and notebook open and resting on his stomach. His chest rose and fell gently, his closed eyelids fluttering. He shifted, fingers and lips twitching as he dreamed.

 _Studying in your sleep, young Midoriya?_

Warm affection bloomed in Toshinori's chest as he smiled down at his boy. He reached down and gingerly plucked the notebook from Izuku's stomach and the pencil from his loose grip, setting them aside. Toshinori shook his head and pulled Izuku's blanket up and over the boy's shoulders.

"Ah."

Toshinori sat up and turned.

Recovery Girl pulled her hand from under Isamu's neck, a small spike lay on her gloved palm. She turned and placed it in the metallic bowl beside the younger nurse's bed. Then she pulled a small recorder from her coat pocket.

"11:08pm, C5 spike shed cleanly," she gently turned Isamu's head, examining the back of his neck, "Smooth detachment. Pedicle intact." She clicked off the recorder and slipped it back into her pocket.

Toshinori watched as Chiyo felt Isamu's forehead, nodding satisfactorily.

Isamu breathed slow and steady, relaxed in medicated sleep.

A small frown pulled at Toshinori's lips as he examined the young man's face.

"He'll be alright, All Might."

Toshinori blinked, glancing back up at Recovery Girl.

She smiled kindly, "You did the right thing bringing him to me."

Toshinori hummed quietly and nodded, sitting up a little and pushing the thick blanket off with a gentle kick. He itched to move, to be productive, but he paused, looking down at his legs. He turned his feet, watching how his clawed toes flexed and -

He blinked, reaching down and rubbing at the balls of his feet. Had there always been rough pads there? Brows furrowing, he released his foot. What other changes did he not know about?

"You should try walking around," Recovery Girl said from her desk, attention fixed on the readings from TB-2. "Your new muscle and bone need movement."

Toshinori frowned, shuffling in place before reluctantly sliding his legs off the bed.

The floor was cool against his pads and his claws clicked quietly on the linoleum. Toshinori pressed his lips in a thin line and slowly put his full weight on his feet, watching his toes flex and spread.

The air chilled his bare skin, and he shivered. He snagged the blanket off the bed, shrugging it around his shoulders and pulling it tight around his arms and chest.

He blinked.

He was standing.

A small grin lit up his face, and he felt his tail thump against the bed as it swished happily.

 _It's a start._

Carefully holding out his tail for balance, he took a hesitant step forward. Back bent, arm outstretched, and fingers ghosting across the top of the mattress, he toed along the side of the bed. Reaching the edge, he grabbed the bed railing and grimaced as his back smarted.

He wiped small drops of sweat from his brow, _This is ridiculous._

"I know _that_ look."

Toshinori looked over at Recovery Girl. She still sat at her desk, but her sharp eyes watched his movements carefully. She pointed at him with her pen and gave him a stern look.

"You can't expect to be all fine and dandy after less than a day of rest," her expression softened, "Go easy on yourself, Toshinori. Both you and I know there is a long road ahead. Especially given the shape your hips are in now."

Toshinori's grip on the railing tightened and he bowed his head.

"I …" Worry stirred in his gut, and he pressed against his hip, "I'm not sure if I'm still bipedal." Toshinori grit his teeth, _Bastard All for One._

"I think it is safe to assume you are at least semi-bipedal," Chiyo dropped from her chair and walked to Toshinori's side. She pushed the blanket over his tail and pressed the side of his hip, then where the base of his tail met his back, "I thought so."

Toshinori shifted, "What?"

"You just need to build up the muscle to stand properly," Recovery Girl patted his back and pulled the blanket back over his tail. "Nothing a little physical therapy won't help. Switching to all fours is likely just a resting position."

Toshinori pulled the blanket closer, tail curling and uncurling uncertainly.

"I know how much you hate it, but I could get your old walker."

Toshinori's hackles bristled at the memory of that standard issue hospital walker. His hand raised from his hip to his scar, claws pressing lightly against the rippled flesh.

"No, no," He cleared his throat and waved her offer away, "Strength training is my forte after all."

Chiyo sighed,"If you come back here injured because of a fall, you're using it whether you like it or not."

Toshinori sent her a challenging smile, "Then I will make sure to catch myself."

The healing heroine huffed and shook her head, "Still as impossible as ever."

Toshinori grinned, "I thought I kept your job exciting?"

"My job is exciting enough, thank you," Recovery Girl said, returning to her desk.

Toshinori watched as Recovery Girl stifled a quiet yawn, and his focus returned to his feet. He moved, one step at a time, keeping his hand at the ready but refusing to use the bed as a crutch.

Straightening slightly, he winced as his hips complained. He frowned stubbornly but relaxed his strained legs. Sweat beaded on his upper lip as he took another careful step. No longer fueled by instinct and adrenaline, his movements were stiff and uncoordinated.

 _I can do this. Come on now._

Toshinori took a longer step with his left and smiled. Lifting his right leg, he paused as the hip joint pinched. He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and hissed.

White hot pain lanced down his right leg, and he jerked away. His claws slipped on the tile, and he threw his arm out, catching himself on the bed railing. Heart racing, he panted and looked down at his feet.

His vision blurred.

Recovery Girl called out softly, "Don't hurt yourself."

Toshinori grit his teeth.

 _No. No, no. I thought-!_

He gripped the railing tighter, and his claws dug into his palm, pain piercing through his foggy thoughts.

"Chiyo…" Toshinori's voice was a quiet gasp, and his knees wobbled. His breath shook as he lowered himself to the cool floor. The cold tile pressed against his skin -

"-ight? Toshinori?"

Recovery Girl's hand pressed against Toshinori's forehead, and he flinched back.

"W-what?" Toshinori blinked and looked around. He still sat on the floor. Recovery Girl knelt in front of him. Dread clenched his gut and he sought out Chiyo's gaze, "How.. How long did I -? How much time did I lose?"

"Slow down." Recovery Girl patted his knee, "You were in shock -"

"It's not shock," Toshinori gasped between panting breaths. "Time. I've been losing-"

He caught Recovery Girl's worried look and froze.

Recovery Girl let out a slow breath, "This is something you should have brought up first. Here, let's get you back in bed," She smiled up at him, warm and caring, "No need to talk on the floor, right?"

Toshinori nodded, taking a steadying breath. He pushed himself up on shaky legs and held onto the railing as he rounded the bed's corner. Sighing and lifting his tail onto the mattress, he sat down.

Recovery Girl rested her hand on Toshinori's knee, "How are you feeling?"

Toshinori grunted, "Sluggish."

"Why didn't you mention this before?"

Toshinori looked away and gripped the blanket, "I… I was hoping it wouldn't happen again."

"How often did this happen?"

"I don't… I…" Toshinori rubbed at his eyes and looked over to the sleeping nurse, "He would know better than I. I don't remember it very well."

She followed his gaze and frowned, "Do you recognize when it is going to happen? Are there symptoms you are aware of?"

Toshinori fingers ran through his hair, claws softly scratching at his scalp, "A fog…"

He felt parched.

He swallowed roughly, gripping at his scalp, "I … I could feel it more when another quirk was developing."

Toshinori shook his head, "It was worse when All for One or that woman, Tetsumi, was present. And…" he grimaced, "And when they gave verbal commands."

Recovery Girl's expression darkened, "Commands?"

Toshinori's breath hitched. _I'm me. It's safe here. It's over._

 _It's...?_

"Shit," Toshinori bent forward. It was back, curling behind his eyes. The fog. " _Shit…_ "

There was a hand on his back, rubbing circles.

"Talk to me. What's wrong?"

Toshinori's hackles bristled, and he gave her a pleading look, "Stop. Don't … I can't…"

The hand on his back froze, "Oh."

His tail thumped and curled in on itself. _Not now. No more._

"What do you need?"

Toshinori shook his head, "I d..don't know-" an inhuman groan escaped him, and he covered his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Recovery Girl reached up and grabbed the thick blanket around his shoulders, pulling it tighter around him. She continued to rub his back, "Shh. It's alright. I won't do it again."

The fog roiled, still pressed against his consciousness. His chest felt hollow.

 _Wait. Don't-_

"-shinori?"

Toshinori's slow breathing hitched.

He turned, blanket falling off his slumped shoulders. The windows were still dark. Izuku still lay asleep. Recovery Girl…

"It's alright, Toshinori," Chiyo still stood beside him. She found his hand and patted it gently.

Toshinori bowed his head and released a trembling sigh, "How long?"

"A few minutes," Recovery Girl said, giving his hand a small squeeze, "Are these incidents usually that long?"

Toshinori stared at his claws curled around the older woman's hands, then met her gaze, "Longer. Much longer."

"Hours?" she asked.

His voice was subdued, "Days."

Recovery Girl's grip remained gentle, "I need to know what happened."

* * *

Thank you for reading "Catalyst" the sequel to "Canvas!" Send me a review or PM if you have any questions or comments.


	4. Masquerade

I do not own BNHA or its characters.

Enjoy Chapter Four of "Catalyst"

Cowritten and proofread by aoimikans on Tumblr.

* * *

 **Masquerade**

The gentle, lavender glow of the early morning sky peeked through the window blinds, dimly lighting the infirmary and Izuku as he lay, slowly waking. Mind muddled and still half dreaming, he pulled the warm weight on his chest into a tighter embrace and nearly drifted off again. Something brushed against his cheek. Sleepily blinking and wrinkling his nose, he turned his head away from the golden threads tickling his face.

The warm weight shifted in Izuku's arms, and he stirred.

 _What's -?_

Izuku rubbed the sleep from his eyes, brushing the golden strands away. They promptly flopped back onto his face and he spluttered, shooting up on his cot. The weight slid from his chest to his lap.

Someone chuckled, warm and soft, above Izuku.

"Rise and shine, Midoriya, my boy."

All Might sat on his bed and smiled down at Izuku. His tail rolled off Izuku's lap and slid up onto the mattress. All Might cringed with a grunt, hands hovering over the limb.

"Pins and needles," he muttered, gingerly lifting the tail over his knees.

Izuku yawned, watching All Might carefully massage the middle of his limp tail. He canted his head curiously. The hair down All Might's neck and tail stood on end.

"Is something wr - Oh!" Izuku's eyes widened, as he caught his mentor's lopsided grin. His cheeks grew hot, and he sputtered, "D-did I-? Was I just-!"

Izuku groaned and covered his face.

 _I was hugging All Might's tail!_

"I'm _so_ sorry!"

All Might barked out a laugh.

"I think I'll live," his smile colored his voice, "Besides, you looked so peaceful, I couldn't bring myself to wake you." His laughter grew as Izuku's ears reddened.

Izuku's mortification slowly faded as All Might's laughs quieted, and he dared to peek up at his mentor's face through parted fingers. One look drove all thought of his embarrassment away.

All Might looked worn down. The shadows under his eyes were more pronounced, and his shoulders sagged despite his gentle smile. He had put on his faded U.A. sweatshirt, and draped the star-spangled blanket loosely over his back and shoulders.

Izuku noted some new holes in the blanket's yellow fabric, and brought his hand down to his lips in thought.

 _Nothing that can't be mended._

All Might met his gaze, and his smile slipped a fraction.

Concern stirred in Izuku's chest, and he shifted on his cot, "Were you able to get any more rest?"

The answer was written on All Might's face and slouched posture.

All Might shook his head and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Ah, well," he smiled and shrugged wearily, "I did sleep most of yesterday."

"You _should_ have slept more than that."

Izuku perked up, peeking over All Might's bed.

Recovery Girl sat at her desk, writing in a small notebook. She gave All Might a stern look, "You know you need the rest."

All Might bowed his head and gave Recovery Girl a compliant smile.

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled quietly.

The healing heroine shook her head, humming skeptically.

Izuku caught the worried light in her eyes. Determination flared in his chest.

"Um," the boy look back at All Might, "Do you need any help with anything before classes, All Might?"

All Might furrowed his brow in thought before a smile softened his expression, "Actually, there is something."

He raised a clawed finger and gingerly scratched at the unruly stubble on his cheek. He gestured to the side table where a small travel bag sat, "Aizawa was kind enough to bring my shaving supplies, but I am still having a little trouble balancing."

Izuku glanced at All Might's legs stretched out in front of him, awkwardly bent as if he wasn't sure how best to sit, nevermind walk.

Izuku smiled wide and threw his legs over the side of his cot, grabbing his own toiletry bag before snagging All Might's off the side table. He stood and circled back around All Might's bed, stopping where he knew his mentor could reach his shoulder.

"The infirmary bathroom is usually empty and," he checked the clock on the wall, "There shouldn't be any students around for another hour."

"Thank you, my boy," All Might said, carefully reaching up and holding onto Izuku's shoulder as he slid his legs off the bed. His claws clicked softly on the floor and his legs briefly trembled as he pushed himself to stand. For a moment, All Might wavered, grip tightening on Izuku's shoulder unconsciously. Then his tail curled tightly around Izuku's waist and his stance settled.

"Ready?" Izuku asked.

"Just a moment," All Might reached into his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses. They were bulky and plastic, the sort used to block out UVs. Flower and rabbit stickers decorated the arms in usual Recovery Girl fashion.

"Is the light still bothering you?" Izuku asked.

"Not quite as bad as before, but yes," All Might shrugged. He slipped them on, squinting cautiously behind them, and relaxed. He gave Izuku a small squeeze, sharp eyes training on his own unsteady feet, "Lead the way."

The going was slow but steady. All Might seemed to consider every step, frowning when he lost his balance and had to brace his arm on the brightly lit hallway wall before continuing.

Izuku pushed the bathroom door open, quickly peeking into it before leading All Might inside. On the wall beside the door were a row of switches. Izuku pursed his lips thoughtfully and flicked on only one. A small light in the back corner dimly but adequately lit the large infirmary bathroom.

"Is this light too much or is this better?" he asked, looking up at his mentor.

All Might hummed, pulling off the bulky eyewear and cautiously squinting. He blinked, and he tucked the glasses away in this pocket. He smiled, looking around, "It's not too bad. Not too bad at…"

All Might froze in place.

"All Might?" Izuku glanced up.

His mentor stared back from the mirror, a look of mild surprise on his gaunt face. Blue eyes roamed up and down his own reflection, mouth drawn in a strained frown. His hand gripped at his sweatshirt. It trembled.

 _Oh. He hasn't seen …_

Izuku shifted as All Might's tail wrapped tighter around him, "Are you okay? Do you want to go back to the infirmary?"

"I'm…" All Might sighed, "I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" Izuku asked quietly, gently resting a hand on the tail around his waist.

All Might blinked in surprise and finally looked away from the mirror, down to his student.

"I…" He smiled lopsidedly, his expression as open is it was the night on the beach after Kamino. His other hand drifted to his scarred side, brushing over the light grey sweatshirt, "It just takes time to adjust to things like this, but it will all be alright. I promise." He looked back to his reflection, "Just give it time."

Izuku nodded pensively and helped All Might up to the counter. His mentor leaned heavily on it, pausing a moment to adjust his stance and unravel his tail, before closely considering his reflection.

All Might raised his hand to his face and frowned slightly as his palm scrubbed noisily on his cheek. He glanced at Izuku, catching him staring, and smiled. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I haven't had stubble this long in _years_ ," he said, turning back to the mirror and turning his face this way and that. He stopped, frowning in thought and flicking his pointed ears, running a claw over their tips, "Huh. That's different."

Izuku smiled uncertainly and pushed All Might's travel bag over to him. He quickly dug into his own bag, fishing out his toothbrush and floss. He starting brushing his teeth as All Might opened his bag.

"Thank you, Izuku," His mentor said softly, lightly bumping his tail against the boy's ankle.

Izuku paused, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and turned to stare at All Might, brows raised.

 _He called me..._

All Might fished out his shaving cream and razor. He fumbled a little when he sprayed a dollop of white foam on his palm, claws slipping off the button and nearly dropping the can. He didn't seem to notice his verbal slip or Izuku's stare.

Izuku ducked his head down and resumed brushing his teeth with a little more gusto than necessary.

 _Accident. It was an accident,_ he told himself. It didn't stop his grin or how One for All quietly zipped under his skin.

They continued their own morning routines in comfortable silence, broken only by the rasp of All Might's razor and the click of his claws on the floor. Halfway through trying to tame the bedhead plaguing his short curls, Izuku glanced back at All Might.

His mentor had tucked his bangs behind his pointed ears and evenly lathered the foam over his cheeks and chin. Brows furrowed with a gentle focus, he carefully pulled his razor along, rinsing it after each slow swipe.

Izuku bent down to splash water on his face and jerked up when plastic clattered in the sink.

All Might clicked his teeth in frustration.

"Everything okay?" Izuku asked, hastily wiping the water away from this eyes.

All Might nodded and held up his hand, flashing his claws, "Just dropped my razor. I need to get used to holding things with these." He turned them toward himself, running his thumb claw across the others and chuckled, "Probably should file them down a bit." He shook them absently, reaching into the sink and rinsing his razor off again, "Something to do later."

All Might returned to shaving, his small smile growing as more of the blonde stubble disappeared. Finally, he splashed his face and looked back up at his reflection.

A wide grin split his face as he double checked for any missed stubble.

"Good as new," he said, turning back to Izuku, tail swinging happily. His eyes widened and his tail picked up speed, "Lend me your shoulder, my boy?"

Izuku jolted in surprise at his mentor's sudden request but stepped closer, allowing All Might to lean against him as he carefully backed away from the mirror.

"What -?" Izuku looked up to All Might, _Oh._

All Might examined his reflection again, brows furrowed seriously. He slowly lifted his hand off of Izuku's shoulder, carefully balancing with his tail outstretched. Standing as tall as he was able and wavering only slightly, he tugged his sweatshirt straight and grinned.

"Better," he said with a satisfied sigh and nod.

* * *

Toshinori hummed absently as Izuku led him back to the infirmary, rubbing at his shaved face with the back of his knuckles and smiling at the feeling of his smooth skin. The boy held both their bathroom supplies and occasionally glanced up at him, smiling back when Toshinori took his hand off his shoulder to ruffle his hair.

 _Good kid,_ Toshinori thought fondly, not missing the way his tail swung contently.

Walking was marginally easier. Toshinori's steps were growing steadier despite the burn of his legs and lung and the ache in his hips and back. The cool floor still felt odd against the shallow pads on his feet, and he had to take care not to trip on his own claws. At least, he felt confident enough to not stare at his feet as they approached the infirmary.

Which was why he saw Principal Nedzu and Detective Tsukauchi round the hall corner.

Toshinori raised his hand in greeting and gave Izuku a small squeeze on his shoulder.

"Go on ahead," he said, nudging his student to the infirmary door, "You still need to finish getting ready for class."

Izuku nodded but waited until Toshinori placed a hand against the hallway wall before giving the detective and principal a wave and ducking into the infirmary.

As soon as the boy closed the door behind him, Toshinori grunted and dug his claws into the wall. His legs trembled with strain and tail fell with a _thump_ to the floor. He bowed his head and huffed a tired sigh.

Toshinori felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Naomasa asked, hooking his arm around Toshinori and pulling him up to lean on him.

"Just tired," Toshinori admitted with a wan grin and a small cough.

"Let's get you to your bed," Naomasa said quietly.

Toshinori frowned and carefully examined Naomasa's face. His detective mask was firmly in place, and something about his voice was strained. Toshinori pushed himself to stand taller, only for his hip to catch and twinge.

Naomasa shook his head, a little of himself breaking through the professional mask, "Did I ever tell you, you are a try-hard?"

Toshinori barked a laugh, "More than once."

Naomasa smiled back, "Nice glasses by the way."

Toshinori grumbled and elbowed Naomasa's side, earning a small cough and a laugh.

"All Might," Principal Nedzu greeted, pushing the door open to the infirmary.

Toshinori nodded in response, a bit too winded to answer verbally.

Naomasa led Toshinori into the infirmary, greeting Recovery Girl briefly, and to the side of his bed.

"All Might, what's wrong?" Izuku asked, his overnight bag packed and slung over his shoulder.

Toshinori sunk against the side of his bed with a groan, tucking the thick glasses into his pocket and waving off Izuku's concerned look, "I'm fine, my boy, nothing a little sleep won't cure. You should head on out," he pointed at the wall clock, "If you get to the dorm early enough, I'm sure you'll have time for a hardy breakfast."

Izuku looked like he wanted to argue. He yelped when Nedzu pat his leg.

"You have classes to attend, Midoriya. You wouldn't want to be late," Nedzu said cheerfully, "Ah, and please refrain from mentioning All Might's return. Your homeroom teacher will address that in due time."

Izuku nodded meekly and allowed Nedzu to shoo him from the room.

"Try to get some rest today," the boy called back and sent a last small wave to All Might before disappearing into the hall.

Toshinori's hand froze mid-wave as he stared at the empty doorway. A small shudder ran up his spine, and his vision briefly spun. Brows furrowing, he rubbed his palm against his forehead.

 _What… ?_

 _Shit!_ Toshinori glanced up at the clock. Only seconds had passed. He suppressed a relieved sigh.

 _Just tired and recovering,_ he reasoned, _Dizzy spell._

Toshinori mentally shook off the fatigue and let his hand fall back to his lap.

An ache at the base of his tail throbbed, and he cringed. Shifting to stand, he lifted his tail from under himself and back onto the mattress. He pushed up onto the bed, feet bumping briefly against the edge and claws getting caught in the sheets. Frowning, he tried to cross his legs to no avail. With a huff, he gave up and settled for pulling his tail over his lap.

 _This is as comfortable as I'm going to get_ , Toshinori thought with a disgruntled sigh, rubbing at the sore spot where his tail had pressed into the corner of the mattress. He bit back a yawn, _Rest, huh?_

"I'm afraid that boy is going to spoil me if he keeps worrying so much," Toshinori joked and gestured to the door. "A real mother hen, that one."

Silence answered him, and he furrowed his brows.

Naomasa and Nedzu still stood beside the bed and shared a small frown between them, the atmosphere abruptly heavy.

"Something wrong?" Toshinori asked.

Principal Nedzu shook his head after a moment.

"Probably nothing. How are you feeling?" the mouse-dog-bear asked, climbing into the chair beside Toshinori's bed.

Toshinori gave Naomasa a lingering curious look but answered, "I'm … adjusting. Recovery Girl saw to my various scrapes and bruises, and I had a chance to clean myself up."

"You shaved," Naomasa said meaningfully and took a seat on the end of Toshinori's bed.

Toshinori nodded, rubbing at his cheek.

Naomasa was there with Toshinori at the hospital after his first fight against All for One. Surgery after surgery meant long stretches of unconsciousness and bedridden rest. Helping Toshinori shave was not a top priority, not when he was so often at risk of bleeding out. The uncomfortable stubble quickly grew to an unruly, scratchy beard that was a constant source of frustration during his recovery. Naomasa was there when Toshinori did not recognize his withered, bearded reflection. He'd been the one to help pick the broken glass from Toshinori's fist.

Toshinori had been clean shaven since. Until -

He hissed between his teeth and pulled his hand away from his face. The small scratches his claws left stung.

"I really need to trim these," Toshinori muttered in annoyance and shook his head. He interlaced his fingers and rested his hands on his tail. "So, I imagine you both aren't here just to check up on me."

"Unfortunately, no," Naomasa said. He bent and pulled his thin briefcase from the floor, "There are a few things I need you to confirm."

Toshinori frowned slightly and warily watched as Naomasa cracked open his briefcase and pulled out a manilla folder. The detective opened the folder and pulled out a small stack of printed photographs.

Naomasa cleared his throat, and Toshinori met his gaze.

"Do I have your permission to record this?" he asked, lifting a small recorder from the case.

Toshinori nodded, "Yes."

Naomasa pressed the record button and set it down between them.

"If at any point you need to take a break -"

"I'm alright," Toshinori stated and grinned, "I'm not as fragile as I look, Tsukauchi."

Naomasa snorted, a half-smile breaking his professional mask.

He turned the first image. It was a mug shot of an irate looking woman, silver hair disheveled and thin face pinched in anger. A deep purple bruise marked the side of her temple.

Toshinori nodded, "That's the woman I knew as Nurse Tetsumi."

"We found Tetsumi Inoshita where you said you left her," Naomasa tucked the photo behind the rest, "Was she the only person you saw?"

"No," Toshinori answered, easily falling into his well practiced role in a debriefing, "There were two others. All for One, the villain from the Kamino Ward incident, and…" he gestured to Isamu sleeping on the next bed, "This young man, Isamu Sato. He was coerced into working with his supervisor Inoshita and the villain, who nurse Isa- ah, Sato- only knew as," his lips twisted into a grimace, "Sensei. Despite his circumstances and being under threat, he was more than kind to me. He aided in my escape."

"What were the roles of the three?" Naomasa asked.

Toshinori's tail tip flicked, and he brushed it down against the bed with a small frown.

"To be brief, All for One provided the quirks forced -" A sharp twinge flared on his neck, and he reached his hand up to press against it. The small spikes hidden in the ridge of hair were growing longer. He ran his hand further down, searching for each one. They had each developed a soft velvet covering and the longest felt a couple centimeters long.

"Do you need a moment?" Naomasa asked, reaching for the recorder.

"Just growing pains," Toshinori shook his head and interlaced his fingers again, "All for One provided the quirks forced into my system. Inoshita personally administered one and regularly changed my IV solution. Nurse Sato was made to deliver meals and ensure I survived the quirks that put greater strain on my body."

"Survive?" Naomasa repeated, surprise colored his voice.

Toshinori ran his palm along his tail, feeling the thick muscle twitch beneath his skin and threading his fingers through the unruly streak of blonde hair, "The tail quirk added a significant amount of body mass… Without that young man, I would not have lived through the change."

A pregnant silence filled the room, only broken by the whir of the medical machinery.

"It seems all of us at U.A. owe him our thanks," Principal Nedzu spoke up, his voice serious.

Naomasa hummed in agreement. Then he pulled out another photo.

"I need to confirm with you that this is the room where you were kept," the detective said, holding the photo face down.

Toshinori reached out without a second thought, took the photo, and flipped it over.

White, silver, and red.

Cold tile. Bound wrists, reaching - muscles straining. Blood -!

"Yes, that's the room," Toshinori said, swallowing roughly, and handed the photo back. His hands trembled. He stared down at them, brows furrowed in confusion.

 _… Why?_

There was a gentle click.

Toshinori looked up.

Naomasa smiled softly back at him and tucked the photos and recorder back in his briefcase, "That's all I need for now. Thank you, Toshinori."

"O-oh." Toshinori nodded, puzzled, and stopped rubbing the red bands marking his wrists, "Was there anything else?"

Naomasa nodded, bending to set his briefcase onto the floor.

"While we found no trace of All for One, we were able to find plenty of evidence tying Inoshita to the building and that room. I had the opportunity to speak with her," he frowned, "But she was less than helpful. She was silent for the majority of the interrogation, even refusing to answer simple questions that would have given me a baseline for my quirk: her name, address, or why her arm was injured."

Toshinori's claws twitched, "That was me."

Naomasa paused, frowning, "You? What -?"

"The injury on her arm," Toshinori lifted his hand, claws curved dangerous and sharp. He bowed his head, "I lashed out."

Toshinori's shoulders sagged, and he sighed, "There were… are moments when I lose awareness and time. It is a side effect of what was done to me." He frowned, a sick pressure squeezed at his lung, "I'm not sure what triggers it or … if it is going to be permanent."

Naomasa sighed and nodded, "I think I saw it happen yesterday in the hall."

Toshinori looked up at him in surprise.

"It was only a moment, but you froze in response to something," Naomasa continued, "Maybe the pain in your legs?"

Toshinori shifted, hands rubbing at his hips. Then he shook his head, "The times I can remember a lapse coming on was while a quirk developed - Ah…" he reached back and brushed the back of his neck, claws brushing against the raised skin, "The spikes."

A surge of relief raced through Toshinori, and he gripped at the small, growing spikes, "I'm still developing the last quirk. Maybe…"

Nedzu piped up with a hopeful smile, paws clapped together, "Maybe once they are fully grown, the lapses will cease. Either way, now that we're aware of them, perhaps we can learn how to prevent them from occurring. You're not alone in this, All Might."

A low hum came from Recovery Girl's desk, and the three of them turned.

"That may pose an issue," Recovery Girl rolled her chair from her desk, shooing the medical droid that had hidden her to the side, "The spikes are cyclical. They grow and shed depending on the seasons and put a strain on the body. If they are a trigger, we will need to observe them for a full cycle. You can't stay here that long," She flashed a smile in Toshinori's direction, "And I doubt you'd want to."

A small smile pulled at the corner of Toshinori's lips, "No offense to you or your hospitality, Chiyo, but no."

Nedzu nodded, "That actually brings me to the reason I'm here this morning. We'd like for you to return to your usual routine as soon as you are able," he explained, "There are just a few things that need to be settled on beforehand."

"Like warning the faculty and students of my" Toshinori made a sweeping gesture at himself, " _condition_ ahead of time."

The principal hummed, "More or less. Though I am positive they will be more than delighted to have you back, no matter the shape you're in. They've all been quite concerned," he shook his head, "And unfortunately, the tabloids and news are not helping."

Toshinori grimaced, "I imagine so."

Part of the reason he had moved into the dorms with the students was to get away from the constant hounding of reporters after his retirement. Certainly there were many with good intentions and were polite, but there were a great deal more of the unsavory, rumormill tabloid writers. Was he ill? Was he dying? How long did he have left? Many, he knew, claimed he had already died or was an imposter.

When Nedzu had offered him a place in the dorms to look after the students, Toshinori wholeheartedly accepted.

Toshinori furrowed his brow, gaze wandering over his changed appearance, "I will need to face them sooner or later."

Naomasa shifted and frowned at Nedzu, "Sooner rather than later, I'm afraid."

A knot of dread clenched in Toshinori's gut, and his hackles raised nervously, "Why is that?"

Naomasa leaned forward, "Do you remember running through the shopping district after you escaped Rishi General?" he asked.

Toshinori cringed, "I did. Did someone manage to get pictures? I might have made a scene, I'm afraid. There wasn't time to be discreet. "

Naomasa nodded in understanding and fished his phone from his coat pocket, "There is a video." He sighed, tapping at the phone screen and turning it toward Toshinori, "It's better just to show you."

Toshinori's gaze locked onto the small screen. A blur of color and movement was frozen under the play icon. He reached out, claw tapping uselessly against the icon, "Ah, forgot."

Naomasa's expression softened.

"Here," his finger brushed against the play button.

Toshinori's ears lowered as scared, angry shouts roared from the speakers.

The camera spun, facing the ground, then swung around sharply. As people ran past, a large figure came into focus.

Toshinori swallowed roughly as he watched himself loping unevenly on all fours, carrying Isamu on his back. Someone bumped into the camera person and the view jerked to the left.

A woman shrieked, "What is that thing?!"

More shouts drowned each other out. Above them all, the sound of chains rattled through the air.

Toshinori grit his teeth, tail tensing and wrapping tighter around himself.

The camera person pushed their way through the panicked crowd and stumbled backward, "Come on… let me through."

The mic picked up a loud impact and grunt. A hush fell over the crowd as heads turned. The camera shook as it panned up.

Toshinori saw himself rear up to his full height and tower over the shoppers, tail swinging past the camera in a flash of blonde. His heaving breath visibly fogged in the morning air, and blood dripped down his side. Isamu's blood.

Toshinori winced as the camera zoomed in on his snarl, his eyes glowing pinpricks partially hidden behind ragged, disheveled bangs. His tail swung and cracked down on the pavement, breaking the spell. Panicked screams filled the air and people shoved each other to get away.

 _No… I- I'm-_

Toshinori's breath shuddered, shallow and quick. His claws pressed into his palms.

Naomasa reached out and covered the screen, "Sorry. I thought…"

Blinking rapidly and tearing his gaze from the covered screen, Toshinori saw his friend's pained expression, "No. Please. It was something I needed to see. You're right. This is going to come up eventually."

Toshinori rolled his shoulders to get his hackles to relax and uncoiled his tail from around his own waist. A wave of fatigue crashed against his mind, and he sighed.

 _Just take it one thing at a time._

"I'll have to send those poor shoppers an apology," Toshinori said with a smile.

Naomasa shook his head and let out a breathy laugh in disbelief, "You never change. Worry about yourself for once."

His friend's grin softened the reprimand, and Toshinori felt tension leave the air around them.

Nedzu popped up, sliding from his chair before approaching Toshinori's contently swaying tail.

Toshinori jolted when the small mouse-dog-bear patted his tail and lifted the tufted end. He tensed, padded toes curling in concentration to keep the tail limp and not knock the principal over.

"So," Nedzu said conversationally, still focused on the tuft of hair, brushing some aside and turning it over in his paws. "How soon would you like to see the rest of the faculty? Or at the very least the heroics department faculty?"

Toshinori's tail twitched, and he shrugged, "As soon as Recovery Girl deems me well enough for guests."

Recovery Girl huffed, having returned to the papers on her desk, "They can see him tomorrow." She gave Toshinori a stern side-look, "You've had enough excitement for one day and need your rest."

Toshinori breathed a laugh and smiled tiredly.

"Her word is law," he joked.

Principal Nedzu nodded, his own tail flicking thoughtfully. He lifted the tufted end of Toshinori's tail again, "Your hair's a bit lackluster. Keratin does wonders for that."

"Keratin is in his supplements," Recovery Girl said from her desk, "Speaking of which, TB-2?"

The droid closest to Toshinori's bed turned. A mechanical whirring came from the droid and two chalky disks slid from a side compartment.

"Sir," it chirped, depositing the supplements onto a small dish passing it to Toshinori.

"Thank you," Toshinori said, taking the small disks. He popped them in his mouth and chewed, savoring the surprisingly pleasant taste.

Nedzu nodded, dropping the end of Toshinori's tail as it resumed its content swinging, tuft gently sweeping against the floor, "Good. As long as you are taking care of yourself."

Toshinori caught the meaningful look in the principal sent him.

 _Take care of_ all _of yourself. That includes the new parts._

Toshinori shifted, focusing on sliding his tail onto the bed before reaching out and examining the tuft, "I suppose it's a little dull."

"Alright, you two," Recovery Girl jumped down from her desk and rounded Isamu's bed, "All Might needs his rest, and you both have jobs to do."

Naomasa glanced at Toshinori, something unsaid lingering in his hesitation. Finally, he nodded and stood, "There is a significant amount of evidence being processed. I will keep you updated on what we find or whether All for One reappears."

"And," Nedzu said cheerfully, "I need to call a faculty meeting to give them the good news of your return. Anything you would like me to say?"

Toshinori smiled, "I'm glad to be back."

* * *

The young man's image disbursed in a gray hue of escaping heat and shivers. All for One sensed the pool of blood expanding and smirked at his enemy's struggle to make the barest contact.

"He's right there," He taunted, gesturing to the dying nurse, "Can't you reach?"

A flash of claws scratched at the bloodied tile, straining against the chain links that remained. A low whine filled the air.

All for One sensed it. The weak point. Even without that woman - Ragdoll's Search quirk, it was obvious.

Leaning forward, he spoke with a low voice, "You're here, aren't you? He will die, and you will have done _nothing."_

The former hero shook his head, squinting and reaching out. A single claw hooked onto the nurse's shoe - his enemy's pulse spiked, the last hope - and slipped away.

The noumu let loose a mournful roar. The sound cracked, broken to a whimper.

It shuddered, blinking wearily and looking around confused. Its body relaxed, and its muscles cooled. Puffs of warm air floated in front of its face, and they too grew smaller.

All for One suppressed a laugh and stepped closer. It didn't respond to his presence.

He smiled and placed his hand on its head, " _There_. That's it, Noumu."

Its hackles bristled under the weight of his hand, lacking any will behind the display.

An automatic response.

 _Finally._

He hummed, the fluttering heartbeat of the fallen nurse drew his attention, "I will need to dispose of this body. Perhaps I will make that your first task."

The noumu shuddered, head bowing and shoulders slumping.

" _Good."_

A wave of exhaustion crashed through his smug thoughts, and he backed away suppressing a curse. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck and ran down his spine.

He turned away to exit the room, and the noumu remained still.

Limping down the short corridor, his breaths grew heavy and labored.

 _Damn it!_

His legs wobbled, and he slumped into his wheelchair. Switching over to the tank strapped to the chair, he took a deep breath. The effort of maintaining his facade drained him.

"I had forgotten -" he panted, the burn in his lungs fading, "This healing quirk's side effects."

Exhaustion pulled at his limbs, and he took a moment to rest.

 _It's done,_ he thought, grinning into his oxygen mask.

He sensed it, the final light fading from All Might's eyes. His noumu was almost ready. One last link was needed. One last task.

All for One rolled the chair towards the elevator, making his way to the top floor. He thought back to the last message he warped to Tomura.

 _"You're no doubt aware of my escape. I have a personal matter to attend to. One that will strike at the heart of every living hero. Continue with your own plans. I may send a gift, a new kind of noumu, if all turns out well."_

Activating Search once again, he easily located Tomura.

He clicked his teeth and grunted with frustration, cursing his limited mobility, _Too far._

He shook his head, deciding to maintain his self-imposed distance.

"Another message then."

Wheeling over to his makeshift work station, he withdrew a prepared tabloid clipping from a drawer, one he knew read: "Where is All Might Now?"

Gritting his teeth, a simple warp nearly too much for his current state, he sent it away from himself.

His shoulders slumped, and the hiss of medical equipment drowned out his thoughts.

 _Out of one prison and into another._

Rest. He could afford himself one moment of rest.

* * *

Or so he thought.

Years of work in the shadows, building connections and collecting loyal pawns, up in flame. All for One would abandon Rishi. Sever the useless, infected limb, ruined and rotting because of a mere thorn.

 _All. Might._

All for One slammed his hand on the desk in front of him, scattering glass and papers, "What went wrong? He was gone! All Might was dead! How- !"

He froze, feeling blood drip down his palm. The red glow of cooling blood seeped into his sleeve, and he focused his attention on his hand. He shivered as the wound knit cleanly together, pushing the sliver of glass out until it dropped onto the desk. Fatigue followed, the quirk's side effect taking its toll.

All for One exhaled slowly, the tubing in his throat hissing, "I see…"

One quirk. The key.

He cursed himself and his rash judgement. He had wanted All Might to hurt _._

 _Suffer in his final moments._

A healing quirk was unnecessary, a privilege to be taken away. Surely his foe's mind would collapse with seven quirks. No other had survived so many. An eighth would not be missed. He was fading! Gone!

But now, despite all odds, he sensed _All Might's_ steady recovery.

All for One clasped his hands together, fuming silently.

"Leaving things to chance, how unlike you."

The Doctor stepped from the shadows, "Exhaust the body, and the mind will soon follow. A simple recipe for noumu, one you followed to the tee. Perhaps if I had been called earlier-"

"No." All for One frowned, leaning back heavily in the desk chair.

The Doctor raised his hands in acquiescence, "Right. _Your_ experiment. Hands off."

All for One heard the unspoken contradiction in the Doctor's words and felt the other man's burning curiosity. He knew, had he released the reigns and allowed the Doctor to participate, All Might would have been unrecognizable from the start.

The Doctor was certainly enthusiastic enough to make up for his poor taste. He claimed stripping away the skull made the brain easier to examine and manipulate. He insisted flooding the noumu's system with drugs ensured their compliance, as if their will hadn't melted away early on. Nevertheless, the experiments succeeded. Useful, if warped, pawns.

All for One let him be in the past, but this was different, "Your particular brand of _assistance_ would have tampered with my desired end result."

The Doctor merely shrugged, adjusting some of the equipment hooked to All for One's neck, "Drop an empty husk in front of U.A. As long as one person recognized the man it used to be, the effect would be the same."

All for One's voice was low and dangerous, "Denial is a powerful thing. There could be no doubt."

 _Rely on drugs when my own hands could do the job? Not for_ him _._

 _Not for All Might._

The Doctor sighed, scratching at his thick mustache, "So, what will you do now?"

All for One hummed and grinned as his hand slid over the papers lining the table, "I've laid the groundwork and sent the message. Now it's time to take a step back and watch.

"Tomura must be _itching_ with anticipation."

* * *

Thank you for reading "Catalyst" the sequel to "Canvas!" Send me a review or PM if you have any questions or comments.


	5. Second Chances

I do not own BNHA or its characters.

Enjoy Chapter Five of "Catalyst"

Cowritten and proofread by aoimikans on Tumblr.

* * *

 **Second Chances**

The new hideout was cold, damp, and industrial. Pipes lined the underground walls. Somewhere water dripped into a puddle, the sound echoing everywhere at once over the low hum of portable generators. Naked lightbulbs hung from the high ceiling on thin wires. The occasionally flickering light barely reached the concrete floor, nevermind the dark corners of the chamber.

Kurogiri glanced up with irritation as a water droplet struck the back of his neck. A part of him missed the old, run-down bar. Useless sentimentality. The bar was long since destroyed by All Might. Whatever remained was likely still swarming with police forces searching for any sign of the League of Villains, any clue to lead them to Tomura Shigaraki, but they would find nothing.

Kurogiri found this place long ago. A suitable emergency hideaway, if circumstances called for it. With Sensei and himself watching over Shigaraki, Kurogiri did not expect to use it. Then Shigaraki had deemed that Bakugou child valuable, and the heroes came for him, for them. That disaster cost them the noumu and so many allies. That disaster cost them Sensei.

Where else could Kurogiri take Shigaraki in such a vulnerable state?

Then Shigaraki _surprised_ him. The young man had licked his wounds, burned with quiet rage, and moved forward. Kurogiri felt his growth. Shigaraki was more calculated, more independent. He started playing the long game. Waiting, watching as the world grew chaotic, Shigaraki gathered allies in the shadows and cultivated his web of informants.

Then came the news of Sensei's escape.

Kurogiri feared Shigaraki would revert back to his childish dependence if Sensei returned to him.

Days turned to weeks with no word. The lack of contact was a double-edged sword. Shigaraki's mind and will sharpened along with his impatience. The short message warped to him had at least temporarily served to calm him, especially with the promise of a new noumu.

The heavy boom of the metal door tore Kurogiri from his thoughts.

"No word from Suiren," Mr. Compress said, striding into the room like a performer onto a stage, the cheshire cat grin on his mask bobbing out of the shadows.

Kurogiri hummed. Atsuhiro Sako seemed to enjoy using the code names he had given his various eyes and ears. "Water Lily" for the young Akiko Shimizu.

 _How dramatic._

Kurogiri watched as the magician stopped with a flourish in front of Shigaraki, appearing not to notice the air of irritation surrounding the brooding man.

"She scryed around U.A., but everything appears quiet," Mr. Compress shrugged and shook his head, "There was no sign of your ever-elusive Sensei. It may be time to try a different approach. Scrying every hour has exhausted her stamina. Could your Sensei have meant something different in his last -"

Shigaraki held up a hand, silencing the masked man. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. The old chair creaked as he shifted in place.

"Sensei has some kind of connection to All Might," Shigaraki finally said, scratching at his already abused neck, "All Might is at U.A. Where else would he -?"

A gurgling hiss filled the room. Black sludge bubbled out of thin air in front of Shigaraki.

Kurogiri took a step forward. From the sludge, a single slip of glossy paper appeared and fluttered downward.

Kurogiri snagged it from the air. His eyes narrowed, the mist surrounding his head undulating with his confusion.

 _A tabloid?_ He flipped the page over, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He suppressed the urge to look around the room for what - he wasn't sure. A force of habit whenever _that man_ was mentioned.

Kurogiri handed the page to Shigaraki, "Where indeed."

Shigaraki carefully took the page, holding it between his forefinger and thumb. He was still, staring at the bold print of the cheap tabloid. Below the print, two figures were featured: two very different images of the same man.

A grin split Shigaraki's face, and he laughed a bone-chilling, gleeful laugh.

"Ah," his laugh slowed to a sigh, and he slouched back in his chair, "Sensei already has him."

A thrum of excited tension and _relief_ filled the dark room.

Sensei had _him_. He had _All Might._

"Shigaraki," Kurogiri broke the silence, "What do you intend to do now?"

The young man hummed, gripping at the page, "The stage is set, players falling into place. We press on. Sako."

The masked magician bowed his head, "My lovely assistants will remain vigilant."

Kurogiri glanced back at the page in Shigarki's grasp.

Two messages within the span of a month and no sightings of Sensei or the retired hero. Kurogiri couldn't decipher Sensei's intentions, not with so little information. But he felt it. There was a storm brewing just over the horizon.

Kurogiri returned to his place and sat.

 _So we wait._

* * *

Shigaraki's eyes narrowed with irritation as Sako's phone went off for the tenth time in only a few minutes. His fingers itched to silence the device. Instead, he waited, picking at his fingernails and observing his surroundings with impatient boredom.

The masked man looked up from his phone and muttered under his breath, keeping his distance from Shigaraki as if sensing a threat.

 _Good._ At last, a sign of genuine respect from the magician.

Frustration burned and coiled in Shigaraki's chest. The excitement of at last hearing from Sensei had faded, leaving a tense void.

Sensei had All Might, which was a victory worth celebrating, but Shigaraki was still in the dark.

He did not _like_ being in the dark.

Shigaraki planned and worked and scraped together his remaining scattered allies. He knew what was required to clear the game. Take down All Might. Destroy the image of all heroes. Crumble the pillar holding society. Then a _new_ game would begin.

Shigaraki shifted uneasily, fingernails tracing down his arms. He understood his part. Sensei said to continue with his own plans, so he had.

 _Sensei..._

Why had Sensei moved on his own? First at Kamino, and now.

 _All for my sake._

So, why would he remain distant and silent? Surely Sensei had much more to teach him.

Shigaraki's fingernails scraped against his skin, confusion coiling infuriatingly in his gut.

Had he treated the game too lightly? No. He had every intention of winning. Were his actions not enough?

No. Sensei said it himself, _"You can try as many times as you like -"_

Then _what?_

 _What did I do wrong?_

"Shigaraki."

Kurogiri's warning cut through his thoughts, and Shigaraki brought his hands together, away from the lines he unknowingly dug into his arms.

At last, Sako stepped forward, phone in hand, "The town around U.A. has been in an uproar this morning. Something or someone charged through a shopping district carrying a bloody victim on their back. My Dove finally sent a clear picture. But you're not going to believe where they ended up."

Shigaraki's eyes locked onto the screen and snatched the phone away, pulling it closer. He recognized those gates, so similar to the one he crumbled before the first strike at U.A. He frowned, staring at the blond figure pressing at the keypad on the wall.

Sako pointed at the screen, "Slide to the left, and you'll get a closer shot - HEY!"

The phone was dust in Shigaraki's palm, but the second image burned itself into his mind. That face - gaunt, skeletal, and so unfitting for the person it belonged to. The very same face he committed to memory after its reveal at Kamino.

All Might's _true form._

But his body…

"So this is what you meant, Sensei," Shigaraki muttered softly, mind reeling.

All Might… was a noumu?

Glee bubbled in his chest, but - He frowned.

Something was wrong. Why was it at U.A.? Who was on its back? How was it entering a passcode? Forget acting out alone, it shouldn't even be _thinking_.

"Kurogiri," Wiping the ashes from his hands, Shigaraki turned away and ignored the flustered magician, "Make preparations to move.

"This is something I need to see for myself."

* * *

Sunlight shined through the cracks in the blinds, casting soft shafts of light against the curtain surrounding Toshinori. He lay on his stomach, head resting on crossed arms, feet and tail dangling off the foot the bed, and listened to the sounds drifting from the hallway.

The school day was in full swing. Students talked and laughed loudly as they passed Recovery Girl's office on their way to their classes. Some entered the office, asking for bandages, headache medication, and occasionally menstrual hygiene products. All of which Recovery Girl gave with a cup of water and some candies before sending the students on their way.

Toshinori shifted, turning to face Recovery Girl as she moved to the next spike on his back, a look of calm concentration on her face. She brushed aside the thick strip of blonde hair surrounding the spike and held a measuring tape against it. She clicked on her recorder again.

"T11 spike is 2.5 centimeters. Growth steady," Chiyo recited, "Can you feel this?"

Toshinori recognized the odd, muted sensation of Recovery Girl running her finger over the velvet on the short spike.

"Yes," he answered, back twitching as she pushed the ridge of hair back into place and searched for the last developing spike.

Suppressing a yawn and feeling his ears droop with fatigue, Toshinori shut his eyes. He let himself relax under Chiyo's examination, idly flicking his tail over the railing and shifting his legs. The heavy weight of his tail resting on the back of his thighs still felt foreign.

 _It's not too bad,_ he thought sleepily, _It's warm._

"All Might," Recovery Girl called, patting his shoulder.

"Hm?" Toshinori blinked blearily at her.

She crossed her arms and gave him a playfully stern look.

 _Ah,_ he grinned bashfully, _Dozed off._

"Are you finished?" Toshinori asked, pushing himself up on his elbows.

Recovery Girl huffed, "Yes, I'm done. Your spikes are coming in just fine." She climbed down from her stool, folded it down, and pushed it back under the bed.

Toshinori sat up and threw his sweatshirt back on, tugging it and shifting until the ridge mane felt comfortable under the fabric.

 _Still feels like a wool scarf is stuffed down my shirt_ , Toshinori thought with a chuckle.

The door to the infirmary opened with a soft click.

"Recovery Girl?" a student called out.

"Just a moment," Chiyo answered before ducking outside the curtain again, "Ashido, what can I do for you?"

Toshinori's ears perked at the familiar name, and his tail thumped enthusiastically against the bed.

 _Shit!_ He scrambled and pounced on the tip of his tail, pressing it against the mattress, _Be still._ He slowly lifted his hands off of it. _Be still._ It twitched and stilled.

Toshinori sighed, shoulders slumping in relief, and patted his chest to calm his pounding heart.

"I sprained my wrist sparring," Ashido said, cheery despite her apparent injury, "Aizawa-sensei sent me in to get recovery-ed."

"Alright, come sit down and let me see it," Recovery Girl said.

Toshinori smiled at the sound of his student's happy voice. Curiosity got the better of him, and he carefully slid off the bed, lifting his toes to keep his claws from clicking against the floor. Creeping carefully with a hand on the mattress to steady himself, he walked to the foot of the bed.

 _Just a peek_ …

Only the curtain was just a bit too far. Toshinori frowned, shifting on his already sore legs. He swung his tail in thought, jolting a little as it brushed against the railing.

 _Ah!_ Toshinori smiled lopsidedly, turning back to look at his tail. Furrowing his brow in concentration, he slowly lifted the long limb and clumsily wrapped it around the railing.

 _There._ He stepped away from the bed, testing his balance. When his legs only barely wavered, Toshinori snuck toward the curtain, pulling it open just enough to lean and peek around it.

Mina Ashido sat with her back to Toshinori, her arm extended to Recovery Girl as she carefully examined her wrist. Ashido wore her hero costume. It was a little scuffed and battle-worn, the damage likely caused by nothing more than a rough fall.

Recovery Girl gave the hero cadet's wrist a healing kiss with a loud _smooch!_

Injury-free, Ashido popped up and punched her arm in the air.

"Thank you, Recovery Girl!" she exclaimed, flexing her fingers, "I'm going back there and showing Sero what I've got! He won't trip me up this time."

Pride swelled in Toshinori's chest at his student's enthusiasm. If Ashido was any indication, the students of Class 1-A were still learning and growing. He smiled, tail swinging happily and -

His balanced pitched forward.

 _Ah._

Toshinori tumbled with a yelp, claws gripping at the curtain, tearing it down on top of him as he fell with a hard _thump!_

"Who -? Are you okay?" Ashido asked, her voice growing nearer.

 _Oh no. Holy shit. Not good._ Toshinori panicked silently, heart pounding. The curtain only covered his head and torso, his legs and tail were completely in the open. He struggled to sit up without throwing off the fabric, his claws scraping loudly against the floor. A painful, nervous twinge flared in his chest, and he froze.

 _Wait. Wait! I'm not..._

He held up his hands defensively, the curtain slipping off of them.

 _Don't… look._

"Do you need help up?" Ashido's hands caught his own and gave them a small squeeze.

Toshinori's eyes widened, staring at his young student's silhouette through the fabric still draped over his face. The nervous twinge slowly faded from his chest. He breathed a soft laugh and bowed his head.

Recovery Girl came to his rescue, "Don't worry Ashido, I'll help him - ah, if you could do me a favor, I need something from that supply closet."

"Oh? Alright," Ashido's hands left Toshinori's as she moved to the far wall, pulling the supply closet door open.

"Yes, now, look to your left," Recovery Girl directed, "Bring that over, please."

"Yes ma'am!"

Something light and metallic clicked nearby. Toshinori's ears perked at the noise and he turned toward it, carefully gripping the curtain draped over his face. He couldn't quite make out the shape.

"Thank you, dear. Have this," he heard the crinkle of a plastic wrapper as Recovery Girl passed Ashido some sweets, "He's a bit shy right now, so if that's all you need, please return to class."

"I - yes," Ashido walked to the door and turned briefly, "Are you going to be alright?"

Toshinori grinned from under the curtain and threw up a thumbs up, tail swishing lightly across the floor.

"O-... Okay, that's good," Ashido said, though there was something curious about her tone, "I hope you feel better."

Recovery Girl shut the door behind Ashido and twisted the lock.

Toshinori flinched at the noise and cautiously lifted the curtain off his head.

Recovery Girl gave him an exasperated frown, placing her hands on her hips.

"Couldn't resist checking up on your student, could you?" She chuckled softly as Toshinori's cheeks burned, "Alright, let's see…" she said, walking up to him. She pulled the curtain from around his shoulders and ran her hands over it, inspecting it for tears.

Toshinori bowed his head with a guilty smile, "I can put that back up for you."

Recovery Girl hummed and smiled faintly, eyes still examining the curtain, "I should hope so."

Toshinori smiled then shifted, fumbling to get his legs under himself, still unused to the added length. His legs shook with effort and bare feet slipped on the tile as he tried to push himself to stand. He rocked back and put his weight on his heels - Pain flared in the changed joints as the bones pressed against the hard floor. He fell back to sit.

 _This isn't working._

Toshinori huffed impatiently, rubbing his sore not-heels, and glanced to Recovery Girl. Her attention was still on the curtain…

He pressed his lips to a thin line as sweat beaded on his forehead, already regretting what he needed to do.

Leaning forward, Toshinori placed his hands on the ground to hold himself. He looked back, shifting his right leg to fold under him, followed by his left. With the balls of his feet and toes planted against the floor, he pushed up, walking his hands forward until his legs unfolded.

A small shudder ran down his spine as he paused on all fours, insides churning as he tensed.

 _Think it through_. He flexed the muscles in his arms and legs. Some familiar, some not. Gritting his teeth, he took the few steps needed to reach the foot of the bed, each step felt far easier and more natural than he liked. He grabbed the rail, pulling himself up to stand.

 _There._ He sighed roughly, leaning against the railing, _Done._

A small movement caught his eye.

Toshinori glanced down at Recovery Girl.

She had stopped examining the curtain. Instead, her gaze, full of sympathy, was fixed on him.

Toshinori's ears drooped and burned with shame. He pointedly looked away, hands gripping around the bed railing and claws digging into his palms.

Chiyo sighed and patted his back without a word, before she gathered up the section of fallen curtain and laid it at the foot of Toshinori's bed.

"Well," Recovery Girl said, breaking the silence, "you fell."

Toshinori hummed noncommittally, frowning at a blank spot on the wall.

Recovery Girl prodded at his hip with her cane, "And what did I say would happen if you fell?"

 _What -?_ Toshinori's eyes slid past Recovery Girl and locked onto the source of the metallic click from before.

He cringed and groaned, "That damn walker. Chiyo, I didn't hurt myself. I don't need -"

"All Might, I suggest you don't argue with me," Recovery Girl's voice was quiet and firm. Her expression softened as Toshinori reluctantly met her gaze. "You need to work on your strength, and holding onto that bed isn't going to cut it and you know it. You will thank me later."

Toshinori grimaced, tail twitching in irritation.

Chiyo huffed a sigh, "Do you want to be able to return to the dorm under your own power and see your students?"

Toshinori's shoulders sagged, legs shaking with effort just to stand, "Yes."

 _More than anything else right now._

"Then you need to be able to walk," Recovery Girl said with finality.

* * *

Toshinori grumbled and glared at the walker, hackles bristling stiffly under his sweatshirt. Gripping the handles for balance, he took a few steps forward. He _hated_ to admit it, but the walker did make walking away from the bed easier.

The ache in his back flared, and Toshinori let his tail lower to the floor. Holding it up for balance exhausted him. Despite his trembling legs, he let out a tired sigh and pushed himself to stand taller.

"Come on," Toshinori muttered glancing at the clock. He'd managed to go almost twenty minutes without sitting back down. His back and legs burned, and sweat soaked the ridge of hair down his spine. Heaving his tail back up, he began his trek to the opposite wall, "Just a few more minutes."

He walked alongside the long picture window. The early evening sun hung low, coloring the sky on the horizon a deep orange. It shined through the glass and warmed him pleasantly. He squinted at the sunset from behind his bulky sunglasses, eyes growing slowly more accustomed to it.

 _"The composition of your retina is changed and your brain is catching up."_ Recovery Girl said when she had examined them during his last spike check, _"I imagine you won't need those glasses long."_

Toshinori grunted, his steps becoming uneven with fatigue.

"Almost…" he pushed the walker until it bumped against the wall and made the last few steps. He suppressed a cough and smiled. Weakly, he raised his loose fist - pointed claws not quite touching his palm - and tapped it against the wall, "Made it."

"I think that should be enough for now, All Might," Recovery Girl called out.

Toshinori glanced over at her.

She stood beside his bed and smiled, quiet pride shining in her eyes. She gave Toshinori's bed a pat, "Come on over. You need to stretch before resting. Don't overwork yours- Ah. Sorry, still need to watch my words."

Toshinori's brows furrowed, "Your words?"

Recovery Girl regarded him carefully, "You said… You reacted poorly to commands."

He blinked.

 _"Come on over." "Don't overwork yourself."_

Simple phrases, but they were essentially commands.

A small, cautiously giddy feeling stirred in his chest. "Could that side effect be gone? Try it again, please."

Recovery Girl's eyes widened. She stepped forward, hand outstretched as if to calm him, "Are you sure?"

He nodded, "I need to know, Chiyo."

"Alright," Pursing her lips, Recovery Girl looked around the room and chose her words carefully, "Sit down on that stool."

Toshinori rubbed at his forehead and grinned. Not the slightest hint of fog…

He laughed out loud, "Nope! I'll stand."

Recovery Girl smiled, her small shoulders sagging in relief, "Good for you, All Might."

Toshinori's tail swished happily, suddenly energized, but his legs wobbled, "Alright, maybe I'll sit… But not there." He paused a moment before swinging the walker around and pushing it to his bedside.

He grunted as he leaned and pressed his hands into the mattress, but his smile didn't fade, "I haven't been this sore in ages."

Toshinori sunk against the bed, savoring lying his torso down, and stretched his legs out behind him with a groan. Claws scraped against the floor as he did, the sound becoming more and more familiar. Walking his legs back up to the bed, he pressed his palms against his lower back and sighed when his spine popped with a soft, deep _crack._ His tail shivered, hair raising, and swung contently, bumping against his legs. He glanced back and watched the limb sway with a pensive frown.

"You're making great progress, you know," Recovery Girl said with a smile. She walked over to the window and closed the blinds.

Toshinori glanced over at her, still frowning in thought, "Just twenty minutes of this is exhausting. I'm surprised I made it back to U.A."

"I'm sure adrenaline and your concern for that young nurse helped quite a bit. You also slept for the rest of the day, if you recall." Recovery Girl hummed, "You're probably overthinking your movements. What feels natural?"

Toshinori grimaced, shame coiled in his chest. _Natural?_

"I don't know," he turned his head, taking off the bulky sunglasses, and fixed his gaze on a wrinkle in the bed sheets. _Nothing about this really feels natural..._

"All Might," Recovery Girl sighed, "I don't mean what felt natural before. You can't expect the same things to feel right."

Toshinori furrowed his brows, experimentally curling and uncurling his toes. They didn't remotely feel normal, especially not the claws that had been his big toes halfway up the side of his feet.

"Close your eyes."

Toshinori jolted, turning to Recovery Girl, and raised his brows in confusion, "Why?"

Recovery Girl gave his hip a small prod with her cane, "Because I'm your doctor, and I know what I'm on about."

Toshinori rubbed at his hip, tail drooping. He held up his hands placatingly, "Alright."

He let his eyelids shut and almost immediately lost his balance. His claws gripped at the bed, and he shifted his feet, stance a bit wider and toes spread.

"There," Recovery Girl said, "Sorry to say, but you'll have to relearn how to walk. Your bone structure changed from plantigrade to digitigrade. You need to get used to walking on your toes."

Toshinori felt Recovery Girl's cane brush over the shape of his foot, from his toes to what had been his heel.

"Find your balance starting with your stance."

The cane suddenly shifted to his hip and pushed.

Toshinori tensed, stumbling only slightly as he stepped to the side.

"What was that …" he looked down at himself. "Oh."

He was standing away from the bed, knees bent, toes spread, tail held out behind him, and leaning forward. The position was more crouched than he had been, arms not at his sides but more forward, as if preparing to drop to all fours.

Toshinori bent further down, lips pressed in a thin line, and brushed his hands against the floor. He pushed up again, brows furrowed and rubbing his palms against his sweatshirt. His tail swayed, but his bent legs counterbalanced fairly easily.

"Standing like that seems to be the best way to shift between walking on two or four legs," Recovery Girl stated, expertly examining his movements. "That may just be what is natural for your body now. Certainly not the first I've seen."

Toshinori shook his head, "It doesn't … feel right."

He stood taller and hissed. His hips caught, and he swayed, legs unsteady. His tail curled as the ache in his back returned.

"Shit," he grumbled, lowering to the more comfortable crouch.

"We're going to have to retrain your muscle memory," Recovery Girl said, walking up to his side and placing a hand on his hip, "Sorry to say, but refusing to acknowledge the differences will only make your recovery a longer process."

Toshinori took a long, slow breath, clawed fingers itching to curl into fists.

"What do I do?"

Recovery Girl gave him a sympathetic smile, "Try looking at it this way. Rather than: 'It doesn't feel right,' think: 'This is different.' It may help."

Toshinori looked back at his tail as it uncurled and swished lightly.

 _Different. No kidding._

 **BANG!**

Toshinori jolted, twisting toward the open door. His legs locked, bare feet slipping on the tile, and he fell to the floor with an undignified _whump_.

"HELLOOO ALL MI- _urk_!" Present Mic's voice rang out from the doorway.

"Mic. Your quirk," Aizawa's voice followed, deadpan and far quieter than the voice hero's.

Toshinori's tail curled and flopped clumsily as he hoisted himself up. He clutched his chest, heart racing in surprise. A bubble of laughter snuck up on him and he let it tumble out, pressing his palm to his forehead as his shoulders shook. With Recovery Girl's help, he untangled his long limbs and pulled himself up against the side of his bed, grinning at his two visitors.

"Evening," Toshinori greeted with a small wave. His grin grew when he spotted Present Mic. The lower half of the man's face was wrapped in Aizawa's capture weapon and his tinted glasses were knocked askew.

Mic waved back, his greeting muffled by the bindings around his mouth.

"Honestly, Present Mic," Recovery Girl chided, "This is an infirmary. Please keep your voice down."

Mic grinned cheekily as Aizawa's capture weapon unwound, "Sorry, Recovery Girl. Can you blame me for being pumped up to see All Might back?"

"At least act professional," Aizawa griped lazily.

"Not unless I have to," Mic shot back with a shit-eating grin.

Recovery Girl huffed and shook her head at the two as they bickered, though she couldn't hide her smile when she turned back to Toshinori.

"Up on the bed with you," she said, "You need to stretch."

"Yes ma'am," Toshinori chuckled, using the mattress to push himself up to stand. His legs wobbled, still worn out. He stumbled. Reaching out, he grabbed the handle of his walker.

The bickering silenced.

"Are you alright?" Mic was abnormally quiet. His tone shifted so suddenly Toshinori froze. Mic took a step forward.

"I've got it," Toshinori blurted, holding up a hand. He grinned awkwardly, curling his claws and tucking them against his chest, "Still working on my, uh, balance."

He climbed onto the bed, clawed toes not quite making it over the edge the first time. Shifting until he got his legs in front of him and tail behind, Toshinori seated himself at the center of the bed. Gaze falling on the blanket young Midoriya had left him, he itched to pull it over his legs and tail.

Toshinori sighed, running his hand through his hair and over his neck, fingers bumping against the small spikes growing there. His hands dropped to his lap.

 _I'm done hiding._

Something rustled and dropped between his feet, making Toshinori jump and draw his knees to his chest. A large, brown paper bag sat on the foot of the bed.

When he looked up, Present Mic grinned wide at him.

"Eraser mentioned you needed some clothes. At least, until you can get your wardrobe tailored," Mic pushed the bag toward Toshinori.

He hesitantly pulled it closer and looked inside.

"It's just some sweatpants with adjustable tail holes and some shirts," Mic explained while Toshinori pulled out a pair of dark blue sweatpants and examining the drawstrings for the waist and tail.

"It was Eraser's idea," Mic continued in a stage whisper.

Toshinori sent Aizawa a curious look, lifting the next pair of pants from the bag.

Aizawa shrugged, "You need clothes that fit. It's only logical."

Toshinori huffed a laugh, his tail contently tapping the bed, "Thank you, but how did you get the sizes?"

"Recovery Girl gave us the measurements TB-2 took," Aizawa said, gesturing at the medical droid.

"Aaand!" Mic practically sang, hoisting another large bag over the bed railing, "I took the liberty of getting you a few hair products."

Toshinori's brows rose as Mic dumped the contents of the second bag. At least a dozen different bottles of shampoo and conditioner tumbled out, "A few?"

"Well, you've got more hair now," Mic pointed his thumb at his own neck and back. He bent and rifled through the pile, lifting a few bottles, "I just grabbed what I saw. Do you use moisturizing shampoo or no?"

Toshinori sent a hopelessly perplexed look at Recovery Girl who only shrugged and returned to her desk.

He quickly grabbed the nearest bottle, glancing briefly at the brand - "Heads and Tails" it read - before saying, "This one is fine. Thank you, Mic."

"Can we come in yet?" came a shout from the hall.

Toshinori's ears perked at the sound of Midnight's voice, and he failed to suppress a surprised cough.

"How many people are out there?" he rasped, wide-eyed and wiping blood from his lips.

A rare grin peeked out from behind Aizawa's scarf, "The faculty of the heroics department."

"Come on in!" Present Mic announced.

"Finally!" Midnight threw open the infirmary door and strode inside. Cementoss, Thirteen, Blood King, Ectoplasm, Snipe, and Power Loader followed close behind her. Almost all of them carried some small bag with them.

 _Hey, hey, hey,_ Toshinori's brows raised and heat spread from his cheek bones to the tips of his ears, _This is too much!_

But he couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face or his tail thumping the bed.

His peers gathered around, all smiles, warm greetings, and overzealous shoulder pats from Blood King.

Midnight was the first to hand small bag she'd carried in.

Toshinori smiled lopsidedly as he pulled out a plastic container.

"Claw Caps and Talon Toppers?" he read quizzically. He poked a claw through the cardboard backing and sliced it open. Inside were what looked like soft, plastic, triangular thimbles.

Midnight leaned into the edge of Toshinori's personal space and took out one of them.

"They come in multiple colors, but I figured you'd prefer clear. Here," she took his right index finger and carefully slipped the cap over his claw. The material molded to the curve and nearly reached the quick, visible under the surface.

Toshinori turned his hand around and flexed the finger experimentally before pressing the covered claw against his palm. No sharp pain.

He grinned.

"And they are touchscreen compatible," Midnight finished with a playful smile.

"Where did you get these?" Toshinori asked, carefully slipping on another and pressing it painlessly to his palm.

"Oh, you can get these at any old pharmacy. They're pretty common," Midnight replied easily.

 _Common?_ The idea sent a flutter of calm through Toshinori, and he sighed in relief, "Thank you."

Power Loader lifted an arm, "I couldn't bring anything in advance, but my workshop is always open for you, All Might."

His peers - his friends - nodded and filled the room with, "Glad to have you back, All Might." "Call on us if you ever need anything."

Toshinori's chest warmed, and he sat back with a smile. _Even thinking of the little things… My heroes._

"I can't thank you enough. This really means so much." He bowed his head when his voice unexpectedly broke. He chuckled and cleared his throat bashfully.

Thirteen approached, reaching behind his back and pulling something forward, "Nedzu mentioned yours was probably destroyed. We picked this one out and took the liberty of adding our numbers. Hope it serves you well, All Might."

Toshinori's eyes widened as he saw the phone in Thirteen's hand. A red smartphone like his old one. He lifted it gingerly it, shook his head, and smiled softly, "You all thought of everything, haven't you?"

"I doubt it," Aizawa muttered, but a smile pulled at his lips.

"Alright," Recovery Girl said, discreetly rubbing at her eyes. She hopped down from her desk chair and made her way through the group of heroes, gently shooing Ectoplasm to the side, "All Might still needs to stretch and get settled for the night. Visiting hours are almost up."

"Since when do you have visiting hours?" Present Mic chirped.

"Since I said so," Recovery Girl stated, shooing him toward the door. "This has been enough excitement for the day. He needs his rest."

Mic pouted but flashed a bright grin to Toshinori, "Get some rest!" Then he squawked indignantly as Aizawa nudged him out the door, waving before disappearing into the hall.

"I should go as well," Cementoss said, "Need to finish grading papers."

"I have a few quizzes to grade myself," Thirteen added.

Midnight moved to leave, smiling gently at Toshinori, "Call me if you can't sleep. I'd be glad to lend you my services. My quirk, that is."

Toshinori snorted at her particular brand of humor, "I think I'll sleep just fine, but thank you for the offer."

Blood King, Ectoplasm, Snipe, and Power Loader followed with brief well wishes, extending goodnights to Recovery Girl in passing.

Toshinori waved to his retreating colleagues, gaze falling on his claws when the door shut. Smiling softly, he dug into the caps and put one on each.

"There," he muttered to himself, flexing his fingers and running his covered claws over his palms. His tail swished across the bed happily and accidentally knocked his pillow to the floor.

Recovery Girl chuckled at his side, bending to pick up the pillow.

"You are going to have to be careful with that, All Might" she smiled as she passed the pillow back up to him. "Unless you plan to make a habit of knocking things over."

Toshinori grinned bashfully and willed his tail to still, "I'll keep that in mind."

Recovery Girl eyed the pile of gifts at the end of the bed and sighed, "They really went overboard, that lot."

Toshinori nodded, picking up a few of the scattered shampoo bottles and dropping them into the large paper bag Mic brought them in.

"Really living up to going Plus Ultra," Toshinori joked, the phrase at home on his tongue. He tucked the rest of his gifts away, shaking his head when the first bag filled.

"Is there somewhere I can put all this?" he asked.

Recovery Girl waved carelessly to the side of his bed, "Anywhere out of the way. You'll need the clothes at least until you go back to your place in the dorms."

Toshinori hummed as he placed the bags onto the floor, an ache of longing for that cozy apartment weighing on his chest. Was it still how he'd left it?

He frowned, hackles raising.

How had he left it?

He shook away the memory of white walls and cold floors. Instead…

Drawn curtains in a dark room. Warm sheets. Mornings filled with laughter and sleepy groans. The smell of paper and ink, homework waiting to be graded. Quiet knocks on the door if he coughed too long or too loud. Tea steeping in a steaming mug.

That's how he'd left it.

Toshinori smiled and bent, snagging the blanket folded at the foot of the bed. He pulled it over his shoulders and stifled a yawn as warmth surrounded him.

"All Might," Chiyo pulled him from his thoughts, "Stretch and then you can sleep. You'll thank me later."

Toshinori chuckled, stretching his legs out in front of him with a satisfied grunt, "Alright, but fair warning, I have no idea how to stretch a tail."

Recovery Girl shook her head with a patient smile.

"I'll talk you through it."

* * *

All Might's eyes were empty. Clawed hands withdrew as he slowly sat back on his haunches, panting. Blood smeared across his bare, heaving chest and dipped from his mouth.

Isamu's heart pounded, and his breath left in shallow gasps. Each sent a spasm of pain into the wound in his abdomen. Blood seeped through his shirt. He felt it pooling around his weakening fingertips.

 _Don't give up. Please, don't go._

Isamu heard a cold voice overhead, "I will need to dispose of this body. Perhaps I will make that your first task."

 _Don't… Am I going to die?_ A shudder wracked him, and spots danced in his eyes. Tears spilled down his cheeks, _I'm going to die…_ _I don't want - Mom! Dad! Please?_

 _I don't want to die…_ _please_

 _I don't..._

 _..._

Arms wrapped around him.

Pressure wrapped around his back and stomach, and blonde hair brushed over his face.

Someone hoisted him up.

Pain shot up his spine, and he groaned.

...

Moving.

Wind.

Cold.

Burning.

 _It hurts…_

...

Warm.

...

Isamu's eyelids fluttered, but remained shut. A gentle weight covered him.

He was warm.

Quiet, steady beeps brushed against his consciousness. They meant something good. He knew. Only… something wasn't -

His stomach gurgled.

Isamu stirred and groaned, _I'm hungry…_

Soft footsteps grew closer and a small hand rested against his forehead. Isamu's brows furrowed slightly as he pulled away from the touch.

"All Might," said an elderly woman, "He's waking up."

"What- Really?!" Something metallic tapped and crashed to the ground, " _Shit!_ Damn walker. Hold on."

Claws clicked unevenly against the ground. A weight on Isamu's left dipped the bed.

Isamu frowned, confusion pushing him further from sleep.

 _Bed?_

He opened his eyes, blinking blearily against the soft light of the strange room.

A familiar face smiled down at him.

"Hey there, young man. Welcome back."

"All -?" Isamu's eyes widened, "All Might?! You're -!"

He froze, then pushed off the warm blanket. Pressing his palm against his chest, he felt his heart beat strong and steady against his ribs. He let out a weak laugh, "I'm alive?"

All Might barked a laugh and gave Isamu's shoulder a strong squeeze, "Yes, young man. You're alive."

Isamu looked down at his bandaged abdomen then back at the retired hero, "But- How? You were -! You were… "

 _You were gone._ He shuddered, pressing a hand over his mouth at the memory.

All Might smiled and gave the young nurse's shoulder a soft shake, "It's alright. We got out."

Isamu leaned back against his pillow and took a slow breath, "You saved me?"

"Ah, not exactly. I just brought you here. She's the one who really saved you," All Might said, gesturing across the bed.

"Honestly, I only patched him up, All Might."

Isamu looked toward the feminine voice, and his jaw dropped.

"Ah!" His index finger shook as he pointed and scrambled to sit up against the bedframe, "A-A-All Might, d-do you know who that is?!" He shook his head, "No, of course you know who that is," Isamu muttered. Then he bounced excitedly on the bed, "But do you _know_ who that is!?"

The older woman chuckled, hands folded in her lap, "I see my reputation precedes me. Nice to finally meet you, Nurse Sato."

"That's _Recovery Girl!_ " Isamu whispered to All Might, "The hero among heroes within the medical profession." He turned and bowed his head as best he could, "It's so amazing to meet you! This is a dream. I'm _dead_. I died, and I'm dead."

All Might laughed, wheezing, clutching at his stomach, and leaning heavily on Isamu's bed, "Young man, settle down. I assure you, this is no dream."

Isamu was about to protest, but his stomach growled loudly. He glanced between the two beside him, and he felt heat rise from his neck and burn his cheeks.

"Ah," he coughed into his hand and glanced at the ceiling, embarrassed, "Well, um, it's - it's good to be alive. Wait..."

Isamu's brows knit together, there was something important he was forgetting.

 _Oh!_

"Oh my -! How long have I been asleep?" Panic flared in Isamu's chest, "My mom and dad! I have to call my parents! What if _he_ -! What if they-!"

All Might held up his hands, "Young man, young man, calm down. It's alright. They're safe. They know you are safe. I had a friend of mine set up a special police protection detail for them. They will not be harmed. Look at me. I promise."

Isamu stared into the hero's piercing blue eyes, burning with more life and fire than they had in weeks. Awe replaced fear, and Isamu quieted.

 _He's really back…_

"Thank you," Isamu sighed, slumping back. "Thank you both."

His stomach gurgled louder, and more color dyed his cheeks.

Recovery Girl smiled and pat Isamu's hand, "Let me call Lunch Rush to make you something."

"Oh, um, th-thank you!" Isamu stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

His hand froze in place.

 _Where -?_

His fingers ran further down his neck. Small, scarred divots dotted the length of his spine.

"My… spikes?" His breath hitched, and he caught All Might's pained expression, "Ah, um, near death experiences can be stressful. So, that's probably why they shed… early…" He managed a weak laugh. It sounded hollow in his ears.

A half-realized dread coiled in his stomach. Something felt wrong. Different.

Something was missing.

"Young man, no." All Might glanced briefly at Recovery Girl and rubbed at the back of his neck. He sighed deeply, "Isamu. The man you knew as _Sensei,_ he took your quirk."

"M-my qu- but why? It's useless. They're just spikes!" Tears pricked at his eyes, "I don't understand."

 _Gone? My quirk?_

All Might bowed his head, "He did it to punish us both."

Realization dropped like a cold stone in Isamu's stomach.

When the retired hero gently lifted and pulled Isamu's hand forward, he didn't resist.

All Might guided it to the back of his own neck.

Isamu's eyes widened.

"These are … mine?" Isamu's voice was quiet as his fingertips brushed against the velvet covered spikes poking from All Might's skin. They felt undeniably familiar. Short and soft, as if they were only a few days into growing. They hadn't yet shed their velvet and hardened.

Tears rolled down Isamu's face.

"I'm so sorry, young man," All Might sighed, shoulders slumping.

"N-no… it's not…" Isamu pulled his hand away, wiped away his tears, and clasped both together in his lap, "It's not your fault. None of it is your fault."

He shook his head, letting out a small breath, and met All Might's gaze, "H-How are you feeling? Last time…"

All Might smiled gently.

Now that Isamu got a good look at him…

 _He looks so much better_ , he realized.

All Might wore a clean t-shirt and pair of dark blue sweatpants. He stood fairly steady and his tail swung contently from side to side. The shadows under his eyes weren't nearly as deep. The only signs left of his traumas, other than the quirks, were the fading marks around his wrists and ankles.

"I'm here and recovering, thanks to you," All Might said softly.

Isamu bowed his head, emotion knotting in his chest, and he bit his lip.

"I'm glad," he said, nodding and blinking away tears.

"I'm really glad."

* * *

Isamu was awake.

He blinked slowly, staring at the opposite wall and listening to All Might's calm breathing. His belly was full, and he felt warm and safe.

He sighed, rubbing his palm against his forehead, _So why can't I sleep?_

The lights glowed soft and low in the infirmary, and the waning moon rose higher outside the window. All Might stirred under his sheets, sound asleep. Hours before, the retired hero yawned widely after their reunion, so Recovery Girl gently sent him to bed.

He was recovering. Despite everything. All Might was recovering.

They both were.

Isamu couldn't help but smile. He placed a hand on his stomach and rubbed at the bandages, feeling at the sore spot on his abdomen. Shaking his head, he leaned back. _Can't heal overnight._

All Might hissed sharply and coughed, and Isamu jerked up. The retired hero shook, legs kicking out and hands gripping at the mattress. He rolled onto his side, eyes clenched shut.

 _Oh…_ Isamu frowned sadly, _Nightmare._

Isamu sat up with a groan, wrapping his blanket up and around his shoulders. He looked over to All Might and let out a slow breath.

"Hey," Isamu called softly, "All Might, it's okay."

All Might panted, his arms and legs twitching. Almost as if…

 _He's running._

Isamu scooted to the edge of the mattress, "All Might, you got us out. We're at U.A. We're alright."

All Might shivered, pulling his blankets closer and curling in on himself. His tail flicked out from under the sheets, blonde tuft bristling at the chill, and stilled.

All Might sighed, expression finally relaxing, and his breaths evened.

"That's it," Isamu whispered to the sleeping hero. "We made it. You don't have to worry."

The door of the infirmary cracked open, and Recovery Girl, dressed in simple coat and scrubs, stepped through the door carrying a tray with a teapot and cups.

"Here," Isamu kicked his feet off the bed, wincing at the twinge in his abdomen, "Let me get that for you."

Recovery Girl chuckled and waved him away, "Thank you, young man, but there's no need to strain yourself," She set the tray on her desk and began to pour a cup, "I figured you'd still be up. Care for some jasmine tea?"

Isamu nodded gratefully, "I would love some. Thank you."

Recovery Girl passed him a small cup with a smile and poured another for herself.

A calm, comfortable silence filled the room as Isamu sipped the tea. It warmed him pleasantly, inside and out.

"It's hard to believe that I was asleep for four days," Isamu looked up, cradling the small cup in his hands, "I, uh, honestly haven't been sleeping well lately. Which is fair considering..."

Recovery Girl hummed into her teacup, "Keeping you asleep was mostly my doing, I'm afraid. Your wound required healing in stages. My quirk almost depleted your exhausted stamina," she looked up at him and smiled sweetly, "Your mind and body definitely needed the rest, young man."

"Thank you again for that. Healing me, I mean," Isamu said.

Recovery Girl reached over and gave him a gentle pat on his knee, "That's my job, dear."

Isamu set his teacup aside, laughing softly rubbing at the back of his neck, "I-I'm kind of at a loss right now."

The healing heroine's brow lifted, "How so?"

He traced the first two scarred divots in thought, "We got out. We're here. We're _alive._ But… What now? What about my job? I can't go back. Not after everything that happened there. I can't -"

Isamu intertwined his fingers in his lap and clenched them tightly, "I-I don't know h-how many of my coworkers were involved with… all of _that_. But I can't just leave town," He bit his lip, "My parents… Where will they go? They're safe, but for how long?" Leaning back, he sighed heavily, "I don't… I don't know what to do."

"You've given this quite some thought," Recovery Girl set her tea aside, "If I may provide one solution to your worries: Why not stay here?"

Isamu blinked.

"What?"

She looked to the side, a slow smile forming on her lips, "I'll need your consent of course, but Principal Nedzu has already voiced his approval. He's been meaning to hire an assistant nurse, and I'm not getting any younger." She chuckled softly.

Isamu let out a choked cough, "Y-You want me at U.A.? W-Why?"

"You have an excellent track record as a nurse," Recovery Girl said simply, "I took the liberty of examining your work history. You have quite the variety of skills under your belt for someone so young." She gestured across the bed to the sleeping hero, "Plus, after what you did for All Might, you've proven your aptitude for heroics. I don't see why you wouldn't fit in … here…"

Isamu blushed furiously and was about to interject, but Recovery Girl trailed off. She looked beyond him, and Isamu turned.

All Might was sitting up in his bed, head cocked to the side and ears twitching. His hackles slowly bristled as he looked around the room.

A cold weight dropped into Isamu's stomach.

"Oh no…" he whispered, voice shaking.

 _No no no no no…_

"A-All Might?"

All Might turned at the sound of Isamu's voice, but his gaze passed over him, sightless eyes reflecting the low light. A soft, confused whine escaped him, and he shifted until he sat back on his haunches. He paused there a moment, swaying slightly as the mattress dipped under his weight. Then he rose to all fours and dropped off the far side of the bed.

Isamu covered his mouth with his hand, _Please not again._

All Might paced across the back of the infirmary. He reared up to look out the window then dropped to all fours again, his hind claws scratched at the tile as he rounded his bed.

Recovery Girl huffed and frowned sadly. She slid from her chair and approached the pacing hero. All Might paused as she stepped in front of him. Reaching up, she gently cupped his face between her small hands.

"Toshinori, what is it?" Recovery Girl's thumbs brushed under his unseeing eyes, "All Might, dear, what are you looking for?"

All Might slowly turned away and resumed pacing.

Isamu's heart sank, "H-he's still -? Has he been… Has this been happening frequently?"

Recovery Girl regarded Isamu and replied, "The last couple of nights. He'll pace around until he wears himself out. It seems like he's looking for something, but thankfully he hasn't left the room in search of whatever it is. I'm not sure he realizes he can."

Isamu nodded and shifted, placing his bare feet on the cool tile. Taking a deep breath he stood, wincing at his aching core. He walked across the room, pausing beside Recovery Girl.

"There's something that I can try. Um, may I?" Isamu asked.

Recovery Girl gave him a curious look but nodded her assent.

Slowly, Isamu approached All Might and carefully sat beneath the window.

"All Might," he called gently, "What can I do to help?"

All Might ignored him and paced away, looking under the hospital bed. His movements were slow and uncoordinated. A inhuman, warbling moan escaped him as he paused, a clawed hand clutching at his head.

Recovery Girl sighed, "He's unresponsive when he gets like this. I'm afraid he'll burn himself out if he doesn't get enough sleep."

"Does," Isamu hesitated, watching as All Might's tail curled defensively around his bent form, "Does he know that this is happening?"

The elder nurse sighed, "I told him after the first night. It wouldn't be right to keep this from him, no matter how much I didn't want him to worry."

All Might shuddered, expression going blank, and resumed pacing.

Guilt stirred in Isamu's stomach. They weren't in that bright, cold room… but All Might was still trapped. Still fighting.

Another, louder groan rose from All Might as he halted again, his hackles bristling in frustration. He shook and sat, cradling his head in his hands.

 _This is my fault,_ Isamu's gut clenched painfully and he bit his lip, _If I had gotten him out sooner, this…_

Isamu set his jaw and scooted closer to All Might, carefully reaching out and putting his hand on his back.

"All Might, your watch is up. It's my turn," Isamu smiled softly, "I'll keep looking, okay? Why don't you get some rest."

All Might stilled and glanced at Isamu. There was almost recognition in his eyes, flickering there and gone. Then he slowly nodded, eyelids drooping. Wandering over to his bed, he sprung up onto the mattress and collapsed onto his side with an exhausted sigh. He curled inward, shivered, and stilled. In moments, he was asleep.

Isamu's shoulders sagged with relief, and he stood with a grunt.

Recovery Girl came to stand beside him, glancing between All Might and Isamu, "How did you know that would work? Last night, I was up for hours coaxing him into bed."

Isamu shrugged, fatigue weighing down his limbs.

"This happened … a lot at Rishi. More so after the tail quirk," Isamu admitted, slowly returning to sit on the edge of his own bed. He watched as the retired hero's chest rose and fell in sleep, "He's not… He's not a completed noumu. He's still All Might. He's still trying to listen. So, when he would … fade, I talked to him. If I acted like we were on a mission together, he'd sometimes be aware enough to recognize what I was saying. It was a silly idea at first, but I think he responds better when given a choice."

The mattress sunk slightly as Recovery Girl sat beside Isamu and gently rubbed his back.

Isamu blinked away his sudden tears and managed a weak laugh.

"Unfortunately, it doesn't always work. If you try to force him to do something…" He rubbed at his abdomen, glancing at All Might's tail, "He would never mean to hurt anyone… I think he's fighting to be himself more than anything."

Recovery Girl nodded, "You two have been through a lot."

Isamu lifted his hand to trace his spikes, but stopped midway. His hand dropped back to his side, "Yeah."

"I don't mean to make you relive your experiences," Recovery Girl sighed, "but I need to be able help him."

Isamu turned, brows furrowing as he met her gaze.

"Can you help me?" she asked.

"I…" A lump formed in Isamu's throat as he struggled to find the right words. He glanced back at All Might, a small hope flickering to life in his chest.

 _I can't make things right, but…_ Isamu swallowed roughly and nodded.

It was a second chance.

"Yes. I can help."

* * *

Thank you for reading "Catalyst" the sequel to "Canvas!" Send me a review or PM if you have any questions or comments.


	6. Little Discoveries

I do not own BNHA or its characters.

Enjoy Chapter Six of "Catalyst"

Cowritten and proofread by aoimikans on Tumblr.

* * *

 **Little Discoveries**

It was a dull itch that pulled Toshinori from his deep sleep. It flared along his spine, tingling and making his back twitch in irritation. Groggily rolling onto his back, he huffed and thumped his tail in discomfort when his spikes pressed into the mattress, keeping him from lying flat. He groaned sleepily as he stretched his legs and, wiggling his shoulders, scratched his spikes against the bed.

"Ah! All Might, you shouldn't do that!" he heard Isamu whisper urgently.

Toshinori stilled and sat up with a grunt. Yawning widely, he reached up and scratched at the back of his neck. He frowned. The muted sensation of the velvet was numbed and the itch only worsened as he scratched.

"All Might," Isamu called softly.

"Hm?" Toshinori blinked sleepily.

The room was lit by the soft light of early morning. A slight chill in the air made Toshinori's hackles raise and goosebumps spread down his arms. He rubbed at his forearms and looked over to Isamu.

The young nurse sat cross-legged on his bed, and an open book rested on his lap. He smiled and raised a finger to his lips, pointing to the side of the retired hero's bed.

Toshinori's ears perked, and he glanced downward. A small smile lit up his face, and he chuckled softly. Recovery Girl sat in her chair at his side, laying her head and arms against the bed in sleep. Toshinori collected his blanket up and gently draped it over her shoulders. He smiled and gave the bed a satisfied tap with his tail as he tucked the blanket corners under her arms.

"How late was she up last night?" Toshinori asked, voice gravelly with sleep.

"She was awake when I dozed off. After midnight," Isamu admitted.

"Of course," Toshinori shook his head fondly, "She has a tendency to worry too much."

Isamu paused, looking curiously between Toshinori and Recovery Girl.

"You seem … close?" he said cautiously, reluctant to pry.

"She's an old friend," Toshinori smiled at Isamu, gently placing a hand on his scarred side, "And she saved my life more than once."

"Oh," Isamu paused, rubbing his neck only to tense and drop his hand into his lap again. A small, sad frown sobered his expression, and he fidgeted, fingers nervously intertwining with each other.

Toshinori's tail curled thoughtfully, tufted end flicking from side to side.

"Are you alright, young man?" he asked.

"I'm… adjusting," Isamu shrugged and tried to grin. It fell short of his eyes.

 _I understand._ Toshinori sighed, a small shiver running down his spine as his sweatshirt rubbed against his growing spikes, _Like losing a piece of what makes you you._

A quiet thought stirred at the back of his mind as he looked down at his awkwardly outstretched legs and gently shifting tail.

 _So what do these make me?_

"Um…," Isamu fidgeted, not quite meeting Toshinori's eyes, "How are you feeling?

Toshinori quirked a brow, frowning in confusion. There was an odd hesitancy in the young nurse's voice. He followed Isamu's gaze to the floor. Trails of scratch marks littered the tile, unavoidable remnants of his physical therapy sessions. But…

 _Shit._ Toshinori rubbed his hand down his face, dread coiling under his scars as the realization hit him. _It happened again._

"I feel mostly rested but…" He sighed, resigned, his tail coiling loosely around itself, "What did I do last night?"

Isamu bit his lip and hesitated, pulling his legs up to his chest.

"You, um, got up and walked around for a few minutes. Not much more than that. Recovery Girl asked if you were looking for something," the nurse paused, "Do you have any idea what you would look for?"

Toshinori frowned, shame stirring in his chest, "No… I don't really remember anything when I'm not myself."

 _I'm still me, but that is something… else._

"Not…?" Isamu sent Toshinori a quizzical look, "You're still you, even like that."

Toshinori furrowed his brows, glancing back at Isamu, "What?"

"When you get like that, you're still you. Just… It's like you're sleepwalking and confused. Overwhelmed…" Isamu fidgeted with the blanket across his lap, "Back at Rishi, you only wanted to escape, conscious or not. And you were protective and kind. You… you couldn't really speak or, um, respond to what I was saying when I talked with you, but…" Isamu pursed his lips, "It's hard to describe."

Something clenched in his gut, and the hackles along Toshinori's back rose with horror.

His chest burned.

Tetsumi's blood on his hands - his claws. Pacing on all fours like an animal for hours, _days_. Never knowing when he lost time…

 _That damn fog._

Toshinori swallowed roughly, coughing against the heartburn, and shook his head, "That's not me, young man."

 _It can't_ _be._

Isamu frowned thoughtfully, "I think you recognized me. You did back at Rishi Gen. And I think you still did last night."

Toshinori turned to look again at Isamu.

"You were still struggling and acted like you didn't know where you were." The young nurse looked pensively at his folded hands, "But you were gentle. You let me convince you to go back to sleep."

 _Not me,_ whispered that quiet thought, _not -_

Toshinori furrowed his brows, "Wait… convinced? How? Recovery Girl said I wouldn't answer her."

Isamu shrugged, "I just talked to you. You were looking for something, so I said I'd take over. Then you went back to bed."

"I -" Toshinori scratched at the back of his neck. The itch was getting worse, "I don't remember."

Isamu paused, his pensive expression shifting to concern, "Is your neck bothering you?"

"Itches," Toshinori said, glad for the change of subject. He pulled a claw cap off with his teeth and resumed scratching at the short spikes.

Isamu swung his legs off his bed, "Hey, careful -"

Toshinori's claw scraped against bone. He hissed, wincing at the sensation. It didn't hurt. If anything, it was a relief.

A small hand tugged on Toshinori's arm.

Recovery Girl adjusted her large glasses and pulled Toshinori's hand down, examining the blood dotting his naked claw.

"You two are loud," she mumbled as she wiped the blood away with a handkerchief, "I need you to lie down on your stomach, All Might."

Toshinori shifted, reaching up his hand again to scratch at the itch, "What wrong with -"

Recovery Girl swatted his hand away, "Don't scratch, I need to take a look at your spikes. Now lay down."

Toshinori huffed, slipped off his sweatshirt, and clumsily flipped himself onto his stomach. His tail slid over the back of his legs and swung off the side of the bed, tufted end flicking impatiently.

"Stop pouting," Chiyo scolded, though she couldn't hide the humor in her voice, "Honestly, you're acting like a child."

She turned and gestured for Isamu, "Can you reach my desk and bring me my gloves?"

Isamu perked and nodded eagerly, "Ah, y-yes!"

The young man scrambled over his bed, still careful to not strain his healing wound, and nabbed the box of gloves. He slid off his bed and crossed over to Recovery Girl's side.

"Here," he held out the box to her.

"Thank you, Nurse Sato," Chiyo said, "Put on a pair of gloves and take a look at this for me."

Toshinori smiled and suppressed a laugh as Isamu froze.

"Y-you want -?" the young nurse stuttered, still holding the glove box.

Smiling kindly, Recovery Girl pushed her chair to the side and gestured to Toshinori's back, "I want your expert opinion."

Isamu was silent, the surprise on his face quickly shifting to determination as he slipped on a couple latex gloves and nodded. His hands hovered over Toshinori's back, and he swallowed.

Toshinori's tail swung contently, brushing up against Isamu's leg and giving him a small, encouraging nudge.

"O-okay, um, let me see," Isamu shifted, flashing a hesitant smile toward Toshinori, and brushed back the hair hiding the smaller spikes.

Toshinori felt the young nurse examine each small spike on his neck, fingertips ghosting over the velvet.

"I'm going to check how sturdy they are, okay?" Isamu says, pinching the first one and giving it a small wiggle, then the second. He laughed, a little nervously, "My third one always tends, um, tended to be a little… loose."

The third spike just barely shifted under Isamu's fingertips.

Toshinori turned his head, glancing up at Isamu.

 _It really_ is _his quirk…_

"Young man?" he asked. His tail wound around Isamu's ankle and gave him a comforting squeeze.

Isamu blinked rapidly and cleared his throat.

"Ah," he choked out, brows furrowed pensively, "It's just… My dad has the same problem, and I got it from him. You'll, um, need to keep an eye on this one. It tends to fall out really early if you aren't careful."

"I may need some instructions, but I'll take care of it," Toshinori promised, reaching back and giving the young man's wrist a small pat, "Are you alright?"

Isamu swallowed roughly and nodded, "Still just adjusting. H-how's the itch? Just on your neck or further down?"

Toshinori paused, gaze lingering on Isamu before resting his chin back on his folded arms, "Neck is worse, and the ones on my back are catching up."

Isamu gently pushed aside the hair along Toshinori's spine, checking each spike and brushing his fingertips over the velvet.

Toshinori shifted as the itch worsened, ears and tail twitching as the urge to scratch at the spikes rose.

"Yeah, you're nearly ready to shed the velvet," Isamu said, "Can you feel this?"

Toshinori cringed, and his hackles bristled as Isamu ran his finger across the spikes.

"Yes. Itches," he said, padded toes curling and tail sweeping across the bed.

Isamu nodded and turned to Recovery Girl, "The spikes are not quite done growing yet. The velvet helps keep them healthy while they finish up," He rubbed at his own neck and shuddered, "Sorry to say, but there's not much we can do about the itch. I had to take a sick day last year and wait it out."

Toshinori groaned as his bristling hackles did little to ease the tension along his back. His fingers twitched, and he grunted, pressing his hand into the mattress.

"I suppose scratching would not be the best idea then," Toshinori muttered, glancing at his claws.

Isamu laughed and patted Toshinori's hand, "Nope. Though an oatmeal bath can help temporarily."

Toshinori inhaled sharply and clenched his teeth as a shiver ran up his spine. He managed a wry smile.

"I think I'll try that bath now."

* * *

The halls of the main building were deserted and quiet. There were a couple hours yet before classes began, which was plenty of time to soak in a warm bath. Toshinori pushed his walker through the bathroom door, letting it shut behind -

"Shit!" He jolted, hackles bristling, as a dull, bruising pain raced up his spine. He yanked his tail through the door, shooting an annoyed glare at it and rubbing the sore spot where his tail had been shut in the doorway. Pain receding, he swallowed down the soft growl in his throat and let the long limb swing back behind him, tufted end fluffed and flicking back and forth irritably.

The bathroom was how he left it. Five showers to the left and three large baths to the right. Toshinori caught his reflection in the mirror across the room. It was still… strange. His body shape was all wrong, bent and stretched. A willowy contortion of his true form, and a far cry from the reliable, powerful image of his hero form.

His eyes, two glowing spots of blue in the dark, reflected the low light shining under the door.

Toshinori sighed and turned from the mirror.

He set his towel and the medicated bath powder beside the middle tub and twisted the spigot knobs until warm water flowed steadily into the wide basin.

"Alright," Toshinori grunted and pushed himself up to stand again. His legs felt steady beneath him, barely wavering as he turned from the bath. He glanced at the walker, still standing by the bathroom door.

 _I can manage without it,_ Toshinori figured, crossing to the showers.

He stripped off his clothes, fumbling a bit with the buttons above the base of his tail, folded, and set them aside, shivering briefly at the chill on his bare skin. Laying out a small towel and sitting on the bench, he unhooked the shower handle and turned on the water. Not waiting for it to warm, Toshinori ducked his head under the stream. The sudden rush of cold water soaking his hair refreshed him. His ears perked up and alert as he ran his fingers through his wet hair.

The water slowly warmed, and Toshinori sprayed the rest of himself down. He groaned, shoulders relaxing, as the warm water soothed his aches and the itch plaguing his spikes.

Cautiously, he swung his tail under the stream. The feeling of the water was still foreign, but no longer overwhelming. It felt… nice.

Toshinori sighed and grabbed the _Heads and Tails_ shampoo. He massaged the lather through his hair, down the stripe on his back, keeping his claws away from the spiked portion, and along the length of his tail. The tufted end flicked water up, splashing his face.

 _Cut that out._ Toshinori scrunched his nose and snagged the tuft out of midair, giving it an accusatory glare before rubbing soap through the blonde locks and rising it out.

He dropped it, curled his tail over his lap, and finished rinsing. A small purple bruise marked the side of his tail where the door had closed on it. Turning off the water, Toshinori ran capped claws over the mark. Beside the new bruise were the faint remnants of his shackles.

Toshinori laid his wrists beside the scarred ring, both bearing similar marks. His brows furrowed.

 _Don't let it get to you. It's over._ He brushed his sopping hair out of his face, ears flicking droplets off their tips. He quickly pressed his hands over them. They twitched against his palms.

 _Stop - Oh fine._

Toshinori lowered his hands and grimaced as his ears flicked off the rest of the water. When they stilled, he sighed in relief and stood. Groaning, he pressed his knuckles to his lower back and arched his spine until it popped.

His hackles bristled and the itch on his spikes returned with a fury.

"Bath," Toshinori grunted, rolling his shoulders and gritting his teeth as his claws twitched.

He quickly crossed to his bath, nearly slipping on the wet tiles. The large bath was not quite full when he turned off the water. Warmth wafted from the surface as he sprinkled and stirred in the powder Recovery Girl had given him.

The itch flared again and Toshinori hastily slipped into the bath, water sloshing up and nearly spilling over the sides. He sighed and stretched out, clawed toes peeking out of the water before bumping the far corner, and sunk deeper against the side of the tub. Slowly, the water calmed. The gentle drips from the faucet and the swish of water as his tail swayed just under the surface echoed in the otherwise quiet room.

Curiously, Toshinori glanced over his shoulder, huffing when he couldn't see his spikes. He pushed himself to sit up and twisted, straining to see.

Toshinori hummed and frowned thoughtfully, eyeing the spikes protruding from his mid-back, far more pronounced with the ridge of hair lying flat and wet on his skin. Reaching around, he brushed the back of his fingers along the velvet covered bones. The velvet shifted loosely under his touch and he shuddered at the odd sensation.

" _Different_ ," He reminded himself and closed his eyes, "Just different."

 _Not mine, not right,_ still whispered a small, panicked voice.

Toshinori shook his head and leaned back into the water. Laying his head back, he traced the swirling patterns of the ceiling tiles with his gaze.

The itch along his spine subsided, and his mind slowly quieted.

Toshinori hooked his arm over the side of the tub, gaze drifting down its length. He frowned and turned his hand over. Small bruises dotted his knuckles where he accidentally knocked them against walls and bed railings. The added length of his arms - only a few centimeters at most, surely - made maneuvering around the infirmary considerably more … difficult. Frowning, he pulled his arm back into the water and sunk lower, stopping with his nose barely above the surface. He sighed, blowing small bubbles and sending ripples across the water, and stretched out his legs.

Toshinori's ears perked and gaze fixed on his toes, _What?_

He sat up, lifted his feet, and splayed his toes against the wall.

They were partially webbed.

He'd never noticed…

"What else is new?" he scoffed. He let his feet slide back into the water and head thunk against the side of the tub. Laughing softly, exhausted, he rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead, _What_ else _don't I know?_

Unease burned and coiled tighter in his gut.

The bath grew cold.

* * *

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi rubbed his eyes tiredly and turned to his cat-faced subordinate, "Who's next?"

Sansa's ears swivelled forward, and he glanced up from a stack of papers. Leaning back in his chair, he tapped the name printed next to a small image on the topmost page.

"Ken Sarubami, registered nurse of thirteen years. Specialization in pediatrics. No criminal history," he answered, "He's the last one for today."

Naomasa sighed with relief and took a long drink from his cup of cheap coffee. He finished it off, grimacing at the grounds at the bottom. _Instant._ He made a mental note to ask the quartermaster to order a better brand for the break room.

Exiting out of his quickly growing note file, he set his empty mug aside and stood, "Alright. Sansa, you can take the lead during questioning."

Naomasa pushed his chair neatly under his desk, not missing the excited glint in Sansa's eyes. He grinned, "I'll let you know when I get a baseline."

Sansa returned his grin, "Yes sir!"

The station was abuzz with activity. Groups of small-time crooks sat shackled to the chairs lining the front wall, waiting to be processed. A couple battered heroes helped detain a large, unruly criminal, his broad arms bound tightly behind his back by the elastic body of one of the heroes. Tired officers, working overtime and long shifts, hunched over their desks and filing the mountains of paperwork. The uptick in crime was hard on everyone.

Naomasa and Sansa passed through the center of the chaos as they made their way toward the quieter corners of the building and the interrogation rooms.

Ken Sarubami waited in the last room. He sat up straighter when Detective Tsukauchi entered.

"Good afternoon," Naomasa greeted him, sitting down with his notepad and allowing Sansa to take the seat directly opposite the large man, "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Not a problem," Sarubami said, flashing his impressive fangs with a smile - though it didn't quite match his uneasy tone, "Happy to help."

There was a beat of silence, then Officer Tamakawa smiled amiably, a small trill rolling from his throat as he nodded to Sarubami.

"We're very grateful for your assistance," he said, "Let's start with some easy questions. Ah, and this session will be recorded. Is that alright?"

The nurse glanced curiously to the camera in the corner of the room and shrugged, "Sure. I don't see why not."

Naomasa activated his quirk. _Enhanced Perception_ , it had been labeled. No detail, no microexpression, no vocal shift went unnoticed. Careful training honed the ability and made it a near-perfect lie detector. To his amusement, many of Naomasa's peers claimed his uncanny gut feelings were somehow part of his quirk.

"Firstly," Officer Tamakawa began, "You have been working at Rishi General for seven years, correct?"

"Yes," Sarubami answered, laying his large forearms on the table and intertwining his fingers, "Jedha before that."

Sansa jotted a note of that and continued, "And you work in pediatrics?"

Sarubami glanced curiously at Naomasa who remained silent, and then he nodded to Sansa, "Yes. I usually work with younger children and infants. They're great - well, most of them. Some of them can be real handfuls," he joked, lifting his large hands.

Naomasa had his baseline. He tapped his pen on his notebook three times, signalling Sansa. The only indication Sansa heard and understood was the twitch of his ear and whiskers.

Sarubami shifted in his seat, leaning forward and glancing between the detective and officer, "Can I ask what this is all about? I haven't heard any reason why my coworkers and I are being questioned. Is it about the commotion by the storage building?"

Sansa glanced to Naomasa, deferring the question to him.

Naomasa folded his hands over his notes, brows furrowed slightly. It was his decision whether or not to share details of the ongoing investigation and, more importantly, _which_ details to share.

"A man who went missing last month was held captive in that storage facility. We are just looking for any information you might have, anything that might have stood out to you. People not being where they ought to be. Anyone unfamiliar."

Sarubami pursed his lips in thought, but shook his head. His posture remained open, his expression puzzled, but honest.

Naomasa paused, carefully preparing to gauge the man's next reaction, "How well do you know Tetsumi Inoshita?"

Sarubami groaned, rolling his eyes, "Awful with kids."

Naomasa blinked in surprise. That certainly wasn't the reaction he had expected, "I'm sorry?"

The nurse huffed and shrugged.

"She usually works with long term patients and elderly, but on occasion she fills a vacancy in pediatrics," Sarubami's lip curled with distaste, fangs beared, "She's too scary for kids. Doesn't know the first thing about caring for them. Medically, sure. She knows her stuff, but _damn_ she can't calm a toddler to save her life."

The nurse pointed his finger at the both of them, brows raising, "Kids are pretty good judges of character, you know."

Sarubami caught himself and laid his hand back on the table, "But that's not what you're asking… is it?"

"No," Naomasa said, "She was found in the room where the missing man was held. We have significant evidence she was involved in keeping him prisoner."

Sarubami sighed, "Honestly, that wouldn't shock me. Sorry to say I wouldn't know why though. That woman's always been wound up tighter than the bun she wore. Glad we didn't cross paths much."

Naomasa nodded. There wasn't a lick of dishonesty in the nurse's tone. He wore his feelings on his sleeve, a refreshingly easy man to read. Naomasa flipped through his notes and gestured for Sansa to continue.

Officer Tamakawa straightened and asked, "Have you noticed any of your coworkers acting strangely within the past three weeks? Any working later than usual, or taking time off unexpectedly?"

"Not that I can think…" Sarubami's expression darkened, and he quieted.

"Sir?" Sansa asked after a moment.

Sarubami shook his head, "There's … There's one, but he's a _good_ kid. He's not the type to get mixed up in anything. Always on the straight and narrow, great with kids, a bit shy, but really a good nurse."

Naomasa's detective mask remained impassive, but a spark of humor stirred behind it.

"Would you, perhaps, be referring to Isamu Sato?" he asked.

Sarubami's expression fell, " _Damn,_ he's not involved in your case, is he?"

"Unfortunately yes, but he is in no trouble with us," Naomasa said amicably, not missing the relief on the nurse's face, "Anyone else?"

Sarubami hummed and rubbed at his chin, "That's all I can think of at the moment. Naturally, my main focus is on the kids, not my coworkers.

"If you really want a better idea about where people are and what they're doing, Ayumi Shiire is your girl," Sarubami laughed and shook his head, "I'm not saying she's a gossip, but she handles supply distribution and has a memory like an elephant. So, if you're looking for strange movements, she'd be the one to know."

Naomasa clicked his pen and folded his hands on the table, signaling the end of the interview. _No need to continue this one_.

Sansa nodded, jotting down a few more notes, "Thank you," Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a card and handed it to the nurse, "If you think of anything else later on, here's our number. We appreciate your cooperation."

* * *

Naomasa returned to his desk. The station was still bustling with activity even as the day wore on. He gave passing greetings to those working nearby and sat in his chair with a sigh. Setting aside his notes, he reopened the digital case file and began transcribing his thoughts.

Halfway through a thought, his phone lit up and buzzed beside his keyboard. Naomasa glanced down. It was a text from an unfamiliar number.

[This is Toshinori.] The text read, [The heroics faculty pitched in and got me a new phone. Too kind of them.]

Naomasa smiled, his exhaustion rapidly evaporating. Toshinori usually had that effect on him.

His phone buzzed again.

[How are you? Any news?]

Naomasa saved his document and lifted his phone.

[Good to hear from you. I'm well.] He typed his reply, [Nearly finished speaking with Rishi's staff. We have a few suspected All for One loyalists, but the case is still young. How are you feeling?]

[…]

There was a long pause.

[I have no doubt there are more loyalists at Rishi beside Tetsumi Inoshita. There was at least one other name I heard while there, but I'm sorry to say I don't remember it. A woman's name, I think. On a related note, Isamu Sato is awake and recovering well. I am sure he would be valuable to your case.]

Another pause.

[I won't lie, my recovery is proving frustrating, but it is steady for the most part. Chiyo is making me use my old walker. I will admit that it has made walking easier, but don't tell her I said that. I'll never hear the end of it.]

Naomasa snorted a laugh, attracting a couple odd looks. He raised his hand in apology and glanced back at the screen.

A new text appeared.

[I lost more time.] It read, [It isn't as long as when I was at Rishi, but it is still significant. It's happening while I sleep now.]

The humor drained from Naomasa, and he bowed his head over the phone.

[I'm sorry] he replied, grip tightening on his phone. Guilt stirred in his chest.

 _If I had just driven you home…_

He pinched the bridge of his nose and pressed at his eyes before continuing, [Is there anything you need?]

There was another, longer pause.

[No, don't be, please. It's alright. Recovery Girl will be performing one last check up before I return to the dorms. I think the familiar setting and more rest is what I need. And it seems as long as the door is closed, I don't wander off.]

Naomasa's heart dropped. The idea of Toshinori disappearing again, wandering off in that state, lost - it sent a harsh twist of nausea into his gut. Guilt burrowed deeper still in Naomasa's chest.

 _I didn't even think about that… Fuck…_

His phone buzzed with a following text.

[Found out my toes are webbed. That's new! It feels like there is no end to these little discoveries. I should try seeing if they are good for swimming. Hahaha] Toshinori finished off the text with a grinning All Might emoji.

A small, sad smile pulled at Naomasa's lips, and he scrubbed a hand through his short hair.

 _Only Toshinori…_ he shook his head.

[Are you sure you're alright?] Naomasa asked. He knew Toshinori too well to not know when he was hurting.

[I will be] was Toshinori's hesitant reply.

Naomasa frowned and sighed, _But you aren't now…_

He typed, [If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, Toshinori. I'm not far.]

Toshinori sent a smiling face with a thumbs up, [I know, Naomasa. Thank you]

"Sir?" Sansa's voice pulled Naomasa from his conversation. He glanced up, spotting the feline officer walking toward his desk. Following behind him was a tall foreigner.

Naomasa gave Sansa a questioning look before standing.

"This man is here to see-" Sansa began but was interrupted when the foreigner strode forward.

"Ah, Detective Tsukauchi, I presume?" He asked, his voice accented. Green eyes raked across Naomasa's face, "I've been told you're the man to speak to regarding the Rishi General Hospital investigation." The man offered a business card in greeting, "My name is William Howard Wright. I'm with an international investigative team in search of a villain we've traced to Japan."

Naomasa's brows furrowed curiously as he took the man's card. He didn't need his quirk to note the man's stiff shoulders and the slight downward cant of his lips.

 _He's aggravated about something…_ Naomasa looked past Wright and made eye contact with Sansa, who shrugged. He opened his mouth to speak, but Wright continued.

"Much of our investigation is classified, naturally, but it just so happened that your department stumbled upon a location we've been canvassing for months." The smile on the man's face was tight.

 _Canvassing for m- ?_ Naomasa stiffened, a cold grip seizing his lungs. _No…_

"Perhaps our teams can assist each-"

"Wait," Naomasa held up a hand, ordering his thoughts, "Wait. One: you'll have to get approval from the Chief to step in on the Rishi Gen investigation, and two: you've been watching for _months?_ Did you not notice suspicious activity around the storage facilities? Nothing was called in."

 _No,_ Naomasa immediately reasoned, _They couldn't have known. If they did, Toshinori wouldn't have -_

"Of course we noticed," Wright bristled, brushing his hand over his slicked back hair, "I cannot divulge the details as of yet, or how it may or may not be related to your case, but we wouldn't be here if there wasn't suspicious activity. As for anything specific, a call to local authorities would have jeopardized our investigation. I'm sure you understand."

An odd, disconnected feeling of disbelief hovered sickeningly in the air.

 _Understand!?_

"So," Naomasa grit his teeth and spoke slowly, deliberately, "You knew someone- something was going on in there… and you sat on that information."

Sansa's eyes widened. He looked back and forth between Naomasa and the foreign investigator, hands raised in preparation to diffuse the crackling tension between them. The bell around his neck tinkled softly as he stepped forward.

"There were many suspicious things occurring at that hospital," Wright stated, his tone curiously neutral, "It was why my team and I are looking into it."

Naomasa shook his head and let out a deep breath.

 _I'm jumping to conclusions. It's a misunderstanding. Perhaps a mistranslation._ Naomasa reasoned again, _They couldn't know what was happening to Toshinori. They couldn't…_

Naomasa bowed stiffly, "I'm sure the task force assigned to this case will appreciate your _timely_ assistance. Fair warning, the head investigator does not appreciate late reports in the slightest."

"Of course, Detective," Wright nodded matter-of-factly, "And who, may I ask, is the head investigator?"

Naomasa frowned at the blond man, phone clutched tightly in his fist.

"That would be me."

* * *

Toshinori pocketed his phone and hooked his thumb in his hoodie pocket. He stood beside the window, sneaking a peek down at the training fields. The third years were practicing rescue drills and CPR. He recognized a few he had seen in the halls and lunch room. Fine, young heroes in training.

Toshinori's walker sat beside him, untouched but just within reach. He shifted his weight, claws clicking against the floor and tail swaying. Absently, he rubbed at his abdomen, wincing with a soft grunt at the uncomfortable burning sensation the pressure brought.

"All Might," there was a soft click as the infirmary door shut. Recovery Girl rounded his bed and gestured for him with a smile, "Ready to get that velvet off?"

"Yes," Toshinori chuckled, resisting the urge to scratch at his spikes, and crossed over to the bed, "The sooner, the better."

Isamu sat up on his own bed, a nervous glint in his eyes.

"It won't hurt," he assured for possibly the third time as Toshinori sat, removed his hoodie, and moved to lay on his stomach, "It feels weird and, um, there will be some blood, but it's supposed to do that."

Toshinori grinned and nodded, "It'll be alright."

Isamu opened his mouth to reply but paused and shook his head, pouting a little, "That's what I was trying to say."

Toshinori barked a laugh, coughing when the burning sensation twisted in his gut. He waved away Isamu's concerned look.

"Tell me," he said, clearing his throat, "Does the itching stop when the velvet's off?"

"Oh, um," Isamu nodded, "Yes, it does."

"That's good," Toshinori grunted, laying his head on his crossed arms.

Recovery Girl put on her gloves and pulled a rolling metal table closer, double checking the tools lying on its surface. Toshinori felt her brush aside the hair along his spine and wrinkled his nose as she spread rubbing alcohol along the spikes.

"I am going to start at C1," Chiyo said, tapping the topmost spike on Toshinori's neck, "and work down. Isamu - ah, apologies - Nurse Sato?"

Isamu jolted, "Oh, um, you can call me 'Isamu' if you'd like."

Recovery Girl smiled softly, "Alright Isamu, dear. Do you have anything to add?"

Blushing furiously, Isamu rubbed at the back of his neck and turned towards Toshinori, "I just have some tips for the spikes. You'll want to brush them everyday and polish them once a week. It keeps debris from collecting on the bases, and polishing helps prevent them from getting cracked - from normal wear and tear anyway. They'll be sharp at first, but will wear down throughout the year, so just be careful about bumping into things behind you."

Toshinori nodded.

"Hold still, dear. I'm starting," Recovery Girl said, tapping the back of his head.

Isamu was right. Removing the velvet felt odd. Recovery Girl carefully cut away the loose velvet at the bases and peeled it away, depositing it in a metallic bin for biowaste. Once velvet-free, she cleaned each spike. The absence of the velvet's warm protection felt strange. The alcohol stung the bases and the cold seeped into the spikes like ice water would chill his teeth.

"Done," Recovery Girl slipped off her gloves and patted Toshinori's back, "The spikes on your neck are still about 3.5 centimeters, but the longest five grew since the last check. T1 through T5 are now around 10 centimeters long."

Toshinori shifted onto his elbows, looking over his shoulders, and grunted with frustration.

Recovery Girl chuckled and turned to the metal tray, "Here."

Toshinori grinned at the mirror in her hand, "Thanks, Chiyo."

He took the mirror, adjusting it until he could see.

 _Huh…_

The spikes were cream colored, though they were tinted red with the blood from the shed velvet. Their tips were white and sharp.

"I think I'm going to have to have my shirts adjusted," Toshinori muttered, reaching back and running his palm over the sharp points.

Isamu perked up, "I know a place that is good with my family's spikes. I can give you the address, if you want it."

"Thank you," Toshinori grinned, sitting up, "I'll need a good ta-" A burning ache twisted Toshinori's gut, and he coughed roughly.

 _"Ugh._ Heartburn again," he pain worsened and climbed up his throat. Toshinori stifled the coughing fit, swallowing roughly and wincing at the burning in his chest. He rubbed at his bare abdomen -

His palm brushed over a small lump.

Toshinori's brows rose, "Recovery Girl? There may be something wrong," He quickly raised his hands defensively, "I promise I haven't strained myself, but did any of TB-2's scans show a hernia?"

"Hm? No, no," Chiyo patted his knee as she looked up from the lump, "I have an idea of what it is. Isamu, dear, if you would pass me the manilla folder just there on my desk," she gestured to it before turning back to Toshinori, "Sit back, please."

Glancing between Recovery Girl and the folder Isamu passed across to her, Toshinori sat back against his pillows.

A popping, tearing sound split the air. Toshinori tensed and sat back up. The pillow followed, impaled and stuck to his spikes.

He caught Recovery Girl looking at the torn pillow and mumbled an apology.

"Don't worry about it, All Might," Chiyo said with a smile and lightly nudged him back. She opened the folder, flipped through a few pages, and pulled out one. She handed it to Toshinori.

It was a scan of his abdomen, the shapes of his organs - so many mangled and nearly unrecognizable under old scar tissue - shown in dark blotches.

Recovery Girl pointed to the center of his scanned abdomen next to where his stomach had been, "Look here."

Toshinori furrowed his brows and did as she said, mentally listing his remaining organs: Liver, gallbladder, small and large intestines, part of his pancreas … and a fist sized organ he didn't recognize.

"That," Recovery Girl tapped the image of the strange organ, "is likely what is causing your discomfort."

Toshinori cautiously rubbed at his abdomen, staring at the odd organ printed on the page, "What is it?"

Recovery Girl hummed thoughtfully, "Well, it looks to be an extension of your gallbladder. It's most likely a part of that Devour quirk. If you'll let me take a look, I could give you a better idea of what it does."

Nodding numbly, Toshinori set the scan aside. Recovery Girl pulled her chair closer and felt around the small lump. She gently pressed down on it.

" _Hhrk!_ " Toshinori shot up and coughed into his hand. The force of the coughing fit pressed against the strange burning in his core and choked him. Something hot hit his palm and dripped onto his pants. Toshinori took shuddering breaths as the fit calmed.

"Slow breaths, that's it," Recovery Girl said softly, nudging the pillow off his spikes and rubbing circles on his back.

Toshinori nodded, grimacing at the leftover burning sensation in his chest. Small tendrils of acrid smoke rose from his thigh. He frowned and picked at the holes burned through the fabric of his sweatpants.

"A little warning -" Toshinori coughed roughly, sticking his tongue out with distaste, "That's gross. A little warning would have been nice."

Recovery Girl gave him an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, dear. Honestly, I wasn't expecting that either."

A tingling sensation pulled Toshinori's attention to his hand. Bile-colored liquid stuck slick to his skin. He wrinkled his nose at the acidic smell and wiped his palm off on his pants, sighing in frustration when the leftover acid began to eat through the fabric. At least the burning in his chest subsided. He glanced back down at his abdomen and gingerly poked at where the lump had been.

Chiyo shooed his hands away, passing him a small towel and paper cup of water. As Toshinori wiped off his hand and thigh, she felt around the area again. She nodded thoughtfully.

"The antacid tablets may have just masked the symptoms, but it looks like you had excess digestive acid stored in what I believe is an acid sac."

Toshinori nearly choked on his water and stared blankly at Recovery Girl, "A _what_ now?"

She pat his abdomen and looked into Toshinori's eyes, "An acid sac, dear. I tried to do some research on the Devour quirk - with mixed results, mind you - and I believe it's part of what allows its quirk user to digest, well, _anything_ really. Normally, the acid would drain into the stomach as needed …"

"But I don't have one," Toshinori finished.

Chiyo nodded, "Resulting in the buildup of acid that needed draining." She eyed his abdomen critically, "For now, I'll give you more antacids, but we'll likely need to consider a way for you to get rid of the excess."

A sense of _wrongness_ twisted Toshinori's insides. He pressed his palm to his forehead and laughed softly, "Anything more I should know about this body?"

Recovery Girl paused, gaze snapping up to examine his face, and she frowned, " _Your_ body, Toshinori."

"Right," he sighed, another half-hearted laugh weakly left him, "My body."

Toshinori hunched forward, closing his eyes. He felt drained. A shiver ran across his skin and he wrapped his tail around himself. The fog -

"All Might?"

At the sound of Isamu's voice, Toshinori looked up and and smiled weakly. He sighed when Isamu's worried frown deepened.

 _Sorry young man, not my most convincing "brave face."_

Drooping ears and a listless tail had given him away, tells he couldn't - didn't know how to control.

Isamu glanced at his interlaced fingers, "It's…" His voice faltered.

The young man paused, searching for the right words. His expression was pained but determined, "It's going to be alright. I-I can't _begin_ to imagine what it's like for you, but you're not alone, and you're still _you._ All of you. You fought so hard back there, and you won! Don't -," Tears misted in Isamu's eyes, and he swallowed roughly, "You don't have to fight alone anymore. You don't have to bear these changes alone. So… maybe… don't force yourself to."

Toshinori stared wide-eyed at Isamu. The young man didn't meet his gaze, clutching at his shirt above his still healing wound. Isamu, his fellow prisoner, his aid and liberator. He was wrong. Back at Rishi, Toshinori had never fought alone.

Toshinori chuckled softly and rubbed at his eyes, "Thank you."

His… _His_ tail twitched and swept across the bed with renewed energy, the tufted end bristling at the change. Heat rose to his cheeks when he saw Recovery Girl's smile. He grinned and shook his head bashfully.

"Sometimes I need that reminder," Toshinori admitted, "I _will_ be alright. Thanks for looking out for me. Thank you both."

Toshinori stretched out, legs itching to get moving. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, "Acid sac. Got it."

He looked up and grinned cheekily, "Can I go home now?"

Recovery Girl chuckled, "Are you sure you wouldn't like to spend more time here?"

"HA!" Toshinori barked out a laugh, "You're not sick of me yet?"

"Well, this _is_ an infirmary," Recovery Girl shot back.

"Fair enough," Toshinori shook his head, smile widening, "I would like to go back now. I think - no - I can manage this."

"Alright then," Recovery Girl said, clapping her hands together, and turned to Isamu, "If you feel up to it, would you help me go over some of these notes? We need to figure out if a change in his diet is in order. For now, I'd say more alkaline foods and branch off from there. Toshinori, I suggest contacting Aizawa first. I'll take care of Nedzu."

 _Ah, Principal Nedzu._ A spark of amusement flashed in Toshinori's chest, and his tail thumped against the bed. _He means well, but I think I'll pass on one of his lectures._

"Right," Toshinori pulled out his phone, "You're the best, Chiyo,"he said, giving her a thumbs up.

Recovery Girl gave him an understanding smile and went back to her desk, lifting the school phone perched on it.

Toshinori fished his phone from his pocket and sent his message to Aizawa, [Recovery Girl is discharging me. I am returning to the dorms tonight.] Aizawa would know what to do to prepare their students.

A nervous feeling fluttered in Toshinori's gut as he restlessly pressed his bare feet to the tiled floor.

 _One step at a time._

* * *

Thank you for reading the final chapter of "Catalyst."

We hope you enjoy the next installment of our series: "Control."

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